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First  View  of  Nature. 


BIONOPSIS 


A    TRUE 


VISION    OF    LIFE. 


BY 

EEV.  SIDNEY   G.IaW. 


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NEW  YORK : 

JOHX  B.  ALDEN,  PUBLISHER. 

1888. 


CnpTrifrlit,  1RS8, 

BY 

S  I IJ  K  K  Y    G.    LAW. 


ARGYLE    PRESS, 
Printing  akd  Bookbikdimg, 

t«  A  £«  WOOSTER  ST.,  K.  T. 


D  E  D  I  C  i\  T  I  O  N  . 

TO    THE 

WISE  COUNSELLOR. 
BELOVED   COMPANION, 

AND 

GOD  GIVEN  HELPMEET 

OF    MY    LIFE. 


February,  1888. 


PREFACE. 

This  book  is  commended  especially  to  thoiTghtful 
youth.  Its  aim  has  been  not  to  amuse  an  idle  fancy 
with  delicate  and  ingenious  conceits,  but  rather  to 
engage  the  heart  with  the  love  of  truth;  for  truth, 
even  when  least  adorned,  is  more  truly  wonderful 
and  beautiful  than  fiction.  Its  purpose  as  its  title 
implies,  is  to  give  a  true  view  of  life. 

It  does  not  treat  life,  as,  on  the  one  hand,  a  jest, 
or  a  song,  or  an  hour  of  foolish  sport,  nor,  on  the 
other  hand,  as  a  penal  term  of  "hard  and  stern 
realities,"  nor  even  as  an  opportunity  for  selfish  emol- 
ument or  aggrandizement,  or  a  season  of  belittling 
cares,  and  vanishing  hopes.  It  seeks  to  make  mani- 
fest its  true  character,  its  sublime  relations,  its 
wonderful  opportunities,  its  unspeakably  glorious 
destiny.  There  can  be  no  question  in  the  mind  of 
one  who  lives  a  true  life,  ' '  Is  life  worth  living  ? ' ' 

The  book  is  also  humbly  commended  to  those 
who  have  no  need  of  the  author's  instructions,  but 
are,  nevertheless,  ready  to  rejoice,  with  him,  in  the 
review  of  the  blessed  things  here  gathered  from  the 
Fountain  of  Truth,  and  who, — though  their  heads 
may  be  now  putting  on  the  silver  (ere  they  put  on 
the  gold  of  the  New  Jerusalem), —  find  their  hearts 
still  young  with  love,  and  glowing  with  immortal 
hope.  May  all  who  read  it  share  in  the  life  de- 
scribed is  the  prayer  of  the 

Author. 

(vii.) 


INVOCATION. 

Aid  us,  O  Father,  rightly  to  declare 

Thy  thought  sublime,  in  this  strange  life  of  ours, 
So  bright  with  i)romise,  in  its  opening  fair. 

So  soon  beset  with  dark  and  adverse  powers. 
Creation  holds  the  thought  too  well  concealed, 

Declaring  not  thy  purpose,  good  or  ill ; 
But  in  thy  Word  we  see  thy  mind  revealed. 

Our  hearts  with  love  and  loftiest  hopes  to  fill. 

Oh  grant  me,  Lord,  the  wisdom  to  discern 
The  wisdom  of  thy  thoughts,  in  work  and  word, 

And  may  my  tongue  with  holy  rapture  burn 

To  speak  the  glory  of  my  gracious  Lord. 

(xi.) 


LECTORI. 

Imagination's  free  aspiring  wing 

Bears  us  aloft,  and,  as  we  fly,  we  sing. 

Wide  through  the  realms  of  space  and  time  we  trace 

The  source  and  end  of  our  illustrious  race. 

Attend,  fair  students  of  the  good  and  true. 

And  mount  with  us.    Together  we  shall  view 

Events  so  strange,  and  scenery  so  sublime, 

The  crowding  wonders  of  momentous  time, 

That  unassisted  human  thought  must  fail 

Their  heaven -hid  heights  of  mystery  to  scale, 

Or,  with  a  measurement  of  sense,  to  sound 

Their  dark,  inscrutable  abyss,  profound. 

Pass  we  the  eras  of  chaotic  void. 

Eras  immense,  with  speculations  rife, 
Our  humbler  thoughts  more  usefully  employed 

With  the  grand  problems  of  our  human  life. 

(xiii.) 


PROEM. 

'Tis  said  that,  in  the  ages  of  the  dateless  past, 
This  world,  a  vapor  from  some  glowiug  centre  cast, 

Moved  through  the  realms  of  space, 
A  mere  chaotic  void,  a  vast  profound  abyss 
Of  jarring  elements,  or  formless  emptiness} 

And  darkness  veiled  its  face. 

But  o'er  that  deep  profound,  and  through  that  ray- 
less  night. 

Echoed  the  brooding  Spirit's  voice. — '■'■Let  there  he 
light ! " 
At  once  light  chased  the  gloom ! 

Whence  came  it,  none  could  tell,  or,  how   a  word 
alone 

Evoked  it,  none  could  guess,  unless  from  Him  it 
shone 
Who  doth  all  worlds  illume. 

But  from  the  wonder-working  of  that  mighty  word. 
And  from  the  blessed  light  and  presence  of  the  Lord, 

Beauty  from  chaos  grew  ; 
And  forces  most  diverse  were  brought  to  unity ; 
God's  glory  shone  through  all  the  vast  diversity. 

As  light  shines  through  the  dew. 

(XV.) 


iT/    / 


BIONOPSIS. 


BOOK  FIRST. 

Behold  the  glories  of  that  radiant  morn, 
When  man,  proud  master  of  the  world,  was  born. 
O  day  of  wonders  !    Long  expected  day ! 
When  all  the  mists  of  chaos  rolled  away. 
And  from  her  womb,  at  last,  old  Mother  Earth, 
Touched  by  God's  hand  gave  forth  this  wondrous 
Ye  Sister  Planets !    In  your  courses  stay,         [birth. 
To  hail  the  advent  of  this  glorious  day ! 
Hark !    While  the  morning  stars  together  sing ! 
And  all  God's  Sons,  with  joy,  make  heaven  ring ! 
Eejoice,  O  Earth !    Ye  mountains  !  and  ye  hills ! 
Thou  loud-mouthed  ocean !   and  ye  laughing  rills ! 
Ye  sighing  forests,  change  your  sighs  to  song. 
Ye  distant  echoes,  soft,  your  strains  prolong. 
Heard  Heaven  the  tidings "?    Heard  she,  from  afar. 
The  rushing  wheels  of  God's  triumphal  car  ? 
In  expectation  hushed,  with  ear  attent, 
Heard  she  the  distant  strains  of  music  blent  ? 
They  hail  the  advent  of  a  new  born  race, 
The  heirs,  on  earth,  of  God's  amazing  grace! 
New  heirs  of  Heaven  itself,  and  love  divine ! 
Destined  at  last,  at  God's  right  hand  to  shine  ! 
Lowly,  and  yet  sublime  was  Adam's  birth. 
An  uncrowned  king,  first  monarch  of  the  earth. 

17 


1 8  Bio  nop  sis. 

No  palace,  realm,  nor  retinue, 

No  sceptre,  throne,  nor  royal  pomp  he  knew. 

No  mother's  tender  ministry  was  his, 

No  home  affections  filled  his  youth  with  bliss. 

Cast  early  on  the  world's  cold  charities, 

A  stranger,  in  a  strange  world,  lone,  and  wild, 

Friendless,  and  fatherless  was  God's  own  child. 

In  some  dim  cave,  perchance,  he  opened  first 

His  wondering  eyes,  when  on  his  senses  burst 

The  consciousness  of  being,  and  strange  thought 

At  once  began,  with  weighty  questions  fraught,  — 

"Who  am  I'?    whence?    and  where?   and  how?  and 

why? 
And  what  is  this  strange  place,  wherein  I  lie  ? " 
At  once  he  rose,  with  manhood's  thoughtful  mind 
At  every  step  new  mysteries  to  find. 
And  (first  and  fairest  of  God's  works)  sweet  light 
Greeted  his  soul,  and  lured  his  charmed  sight. 
That  light  the  gloom  of  chaos  first  dispelled. 
And  now  appears,  by  man  with  joy  beheld. 
Glancing  through  jewelled  drops  along  the  way, 
To  lead  his  willing  steps,  with  gentle  ray. 
To  Heaven's  bright  splendors,  in  the  open  day. 
And  so  may  God's  true  light  befriend  each  soul 
Who  takes  her  guidance  and  who  seeks  her  goal. 
All  hail  bright  essence  !    What,  or  who,  art  thou? 
Thyself  unseen,  thy  gleams  all  things  endow 
With  form  and  beauty  to  the  wondering  sense. 
Like  Him ! — And  surely  yet  not  He  ? — but  whence  ? 
Oh  tell  from  what  bright  realm  thou  com'st  to  bless 
My  lonely  soul,  in  this  dark  wilderness  ? 


Book  First — Opening  Life.  19 

Thou  art  a  glimmer  of  the  same  great  thought, 
That  into  life  my  thinking  soul  hath  brought. 
This  dim  and  lonely  grot  thy  smile  doth  cheer, 
While  shades  of  night  dissolve  and  disappear. 
Lead  on  !    I  follow  !     Guide  my  steps  aright. 
My  soul  is  glad  !     I  am  a  child  of  light ! " 

Beaching,  at  length,  the  grotto's  open  door, 
Amazed  he  stands  to  gaze  and  to  adore. 
For,  wide  outspread  to  his  astonished  eyes, 
Lay  the  fair  fields  of  Earth's  first  Paradise  ! 
Behold  the  man  !    Formed  by  the  hand  divine, 
To  image  forth  his  God,  how  doth  he  shine. 
As  fair  and  ruddy  as  the  morning  light. 
Chasing  the  shades  and  mists  of  chilly  night. 
Athwart  the  dark  mysterious  cave  he  stands. 
In  naked  grandeur,  sovereign  of  all  lands. 
Begirt  with  rocks,  with  trailing  vines  o'erhung. 
By  nature's  fairy  fingers  lightly  flung, 
In  graceful  fringes  from  the  the  cliffs  o'erhead. 
And  with  a  flower-decked,  grassy  carpet  spread 
In  front,  the  cave  looks  forth  upon  a  view 
As  wide  and  fair  as  ever  mortal  knew ; 
But  fairer,  grander,  more  sublime  is  he 
\Yho  looked  o'er  all  this  vast  expanse,  to  see 
If,  anywhere,  his  wondering  eyes  may  find 
The  Author  of  it  all,  that  causal  Mind, 
That  first  conceived  and  formed  the  wondrous  plan, 
And  then,  to  view  it,  called  forth  thinking  man. 
A  stately  man  is  he,  kingly  and  grand, — 
The  perfect  workmanship  of  God's  own  hand. 


20  Bionopsis. 

His  form  unmatcliecl,  for  beauty,  strength  and  grace, 

Sweetness,  and  dignity  dwell  in  his  face 

(For  cold  distrust,  dark  envy,  pride,  and  scorn, 

Sad  fruit  of  sin,  in  man  are  not  yet  born). 

Health  tints  his  cheeks  and  forehead  broad  and  high, 

Pure  innocence,  and  bliss  illume  his  eye. 

Locks  dark,  and  clust'ring,  crown  his  noble  head, 

And  manhood's  honors  o'er  his  face  are  shed. 

But  far  above  them  all,  to  crown  the  whole, 

Beams  radiant  forth,  a  pure  and  noble  soul. 

This  gives  to  man  his  high  i)re-eminence 

O'er  all  the  works  of  God,  sublime,  immense — 

Sublimer  still  the  spirit  breathed  in  man, 

From  God,  like  God,  end  of  God's  wondrous  plan. 

And  now,  to  view  his  work,  God  leads  his  child, 

Untaught  of  ill,  by  sin  yet  undefiled, 

Out  from  the  darkness  by  a  thread  of  light. 

His  soul  astonished  at  the  marvellous  sight. 

Wonder,  and  awe,  and  rapturous  surprise 
Beam  from  his  face,  and  sparkle  in  his  eyes. 
"  O  realm  of  light !     How  beautiful ! "  he  cries. 
*' Emerging  from  this  cave,  a  low  walled  room, 
Dismal,  and  close,  and  shrouded  deep  in  gloom, 
Where  first  I  drew  my  breath, — my  earliest  home, — 
I  enter  this  vast  vaulted  hall,  whose  height. 
Beyond  my  touch,  exceeds  my  wondering  sight. 
O  arch  sublime  !  ethereal,  built  of  light ! 
And  far  away,  on  either  hand,  I  view 
Above,  a  depth  of  clear  translucent  blue, 
Below,  a  vast  expanse  of  varied  hue  ; — 


Book  First — Opening  Life.  21 

Behiud  me  rocks,  ou  towering  rocks,  arise, 
A  central  column  to  support  the  skies ; 
Beneath  me  woods,  and  precipices  steep, 
And  roaring  brooks,  and  chasms  dark  and  deep. 

"  This  scene  of  solemn  grandeur  holds  my  soul 
In  awe  profound.     I  trace,  throughout  the  whole, 
A  hand  invisible,  of  infinite  might, 
A  mind  Supreme  o'er  Earth,  and  Heaven's  great 

height. 
With  mystery  hemmed  in  on  every  side, 
I  tremble  in  my  heart,  and  yet  rejoice. 
I  cry  aloud ;  but  hear  no  answering  voice. 
Amidst  this  marvellous  scene  alone  I  stand. 
Myself  the  work  of  that  same  unseen  hand 
That  formed  all  else,  and  yet  himself  conceals. 
While  wisdom,  goodness,  might,  his  work  reveals. 
Thou  world,  with  wonders  filled  !  An  endless  store  ! 
My  curious  mind  thy  treasures  longs  t' explore. 
'Tis  mystery  all !    By  what  enchantment  wrought. 
Or  when,  or  why,  exceeds  my  highest  thought ; 
But  this  thought  claims  and  fills  my  inmost  mind, 
Whatever  end,  or  purpose,  was  designed, 
'Twas  wise,  and  good,  and  worthy  of  that  source 
Whence  all  things  sprung.     'Twas  no  blind  aimless 

force. 
Yet  not  the  only  unseen  power  I  find 
Th'  invisible  supreme,  creative  Mind ; 
For  manifest  are  subtle  forces  too, 
Where'er  I  tarn,  whatever  I  may  do. 


22  Bio7iopsis. 

I  pause  and  list.    What  is  it  now  I  hear  % 

What  force  is  borne  to  my  attentive  ear? 

I  cannot  touch  it. — If  I  smite  this  rock, 

My  hand  and  body  feel  the  answering  shock : 

But  when  I  speak,  or  list  to  other  sound, 

I  see  no  substance,  feel  no  strong  rebound. 

Yet  to  my  mind  a  power  is  manifest, 

Which  pleasures  sweet,  and  teeming  thoughts  attest. 

"  I  pluck  this  flower,  so  beautiful  and  bright 
It  seems  some  fair  ethereal  child  of  light. 
I'll  ask  it  'Claimest  thou  thy  humble  birth, 
Akin  to  me,  from  this  same  mother,  earth?' 
It  answers  not,  yet  to  my  soul  there  steals 
Sensation  strange,  which  hidden  force  reveals. 
With  wondrous  power  it  penetrates  and  thrills 
My  very  soul,  and  with  keen  pleasure  fills. 
Wee  flower  I  love  thee !     For  in  thee  I  find 
First  trace  of  life,  to  greet  my  longing  mind. 
Does  then  some  spiritual  essence  rare 
Eeside  within  thy  fragile  form  so  fair ! 
I  list  in  vain.    The  blossom  still  replies, 
'  I  only  breathe  of  Him,  who  rules  the  skies.' 
Be  my  breath  also  spent  to  speak  His  praise ! 
To  know  and  serve  Him  may  I  spend  my  days. 

"Again,  what  force,  mysterious,  dwells  in  light 
That  by  it  far-off  objects  reach  my  sight. 
Borne  swiftly  on  its  noiseless,  viewless  wings, 
While  each  new  messenger  new  pleasure  brings ! 
These  images  but  messengers  I  deem, 


Book  First — Opening  Life.  23 

And  not  the  substance  of  the  forms  they  seem ; 
But  what  true  essence  theirs  I  cannot  guess, 
Or  how  aught  real  can  come  from  nothingness. 
"Yet  this  I  know,  these  forms  are  true  as  light, — 
Their  message,  too,  my  mind  may  read  aright. 
Tell  me  ye  messengers  that  light  has  caught. 
And  to  my  curious  mind  has  strangely  brought, 
Speak  ye  alone  of  forms  far  off  and  dim, 
Eeflecting  light,  or  speak  ye  more  of  Him, 
"SVhence  ye  proceed  ? 

I  know  I  read  ye  right — 
'  We  bear  God's  truth.    "We  shine  in  His  own  light  I 
Be  I,  too,  bearer  of  the  light  divine, 
In  God's  own  splendor,  evermore  to  shine. 

"  But  Oh  to  find  out  more  and  more  of  God  ! 

For  this  my  thoughts  spring  up,  and  fly  abroad. 

On  every  side  his  wondrous  hand  I  trace, 

I  long  to  hear  him  and  behold  his  face. 

And  can  he  see  me  %    Can  he  hear  my  speech  % 

Then  low  I'll  bend.    His  favor  I'll  beseech. 

"  O  Thou,  Supreme,  who  thought  and  being  gave. 
Thee  I  adore,  and  this  great  boon  I  crave. 
Show  me  thyself!     Oh  let  me  hear  thy  voice. 
Be  near,  and  let  my  soul  in  Thee  rejoice. 
Or  if  to  learn  by  dim  reflected  light 
Must  be  my  lot,  'twill  still  be  my  delight. 
'Tis  bliss  to  learn  of  Thee.    Thy  works  all  praise 
To  learn  and  praise  Thee,  let  me  spend  my  days." 

No  voice  replied  to  Adam's  earliest  plea, 


24  Bionopsis. 

No  stranger  sight  than  aught  yet  seen  appeared. 
And  yet,  through  all  his  soul,  there  came  a  seuse 
Of  presence  most  divine,  delight  most  sweet. 
His  heart  rejoiced  in  God,  as  near  and  dear. 
And  long  he  knelt  and  lingered  at  the  spot, 
Where  this  sweet  consciousness  was  first  enjoyed. 

Then,  rising,  he  looked  forth  again  to  see 
If  yet,  the  world,  so  soon  forgot,  remained. 
Sweeter  than  first  fair  sight  of  Paradise, 
Sweeter  than  melody  of  human  voice, 
Or  all  the  imagery  of  human  thought 
Was  that  pure,  deep,  unspeakable  delight. 
From  God's  approving  presence  in  his  soul. 

And  yet  he  still  rejoiced  that  Earth  remained ; 
For  man  has  twofold  elements  of  bliss  : 
His  spiritual  joys  transcend  the  power 
Of  sense  to  reach,  or  earthly  things  to  give, 
Even  as  a  lark  soars  singing  up  at  morn, 
And  flowers  and  fruits  below  are  all  forgot 
But  as  the  lark  once  more  descends  with  joy 
To  feast  on  things  below,  midst  fruits  and  flowers, 
So  man  has  pleasures  in  the  things  of  earth 
So  pure  that  angels  might  be  glad  to  share. 
Material  things  afford  sincere  delight, 
When  rightly  used  (their  Author  unforgot). 
For,  when  man's  spirit  takes  true  cognizance 
Of  inward  meaning  in  these  outward  forms, 
It  joys  in  Him  from  whom  all  joy  proceeds. 


Book  First — Opening  Life.  25 

Alas  for  those  who  find  no  joys  above 

The  things  of  sense ;  for,  groping  all  their  days, 

They  walk  in  darkness,  and  know  not  the  light. 

Material  things  reflect  the  light  of  God. 

They  make  light  visible  to  mortal  eyes, 

By  it  themselves  in  beauty  bright  arrayed. 

He  who  despises  them  reproves  his  God, 

Who  made  them  all,  pronouncing  all  things  good. 

But  he,  who,  groping  by  the  sense  of  touch, 

Heeds  not  the  light  in  which  they  shine  from  God, 

Loses  their  meaning,  and  their  chief  delight. 

And  now  began  the  quest  of  Adam's  life. 
Leaving  the  heights,  and  contemplative  thought. 
He  started  forth  to  seek  the  God  of  all. 
At  every  step  met  by  some  new  surprise. 

Descending  from  his  lonely  cavern  home, 
With  careful  steps  along  the  mountain  side, 
Eock-built,  and  beautiful  with  vines  and  ferns, 
He  reached  a  mossy  bank  o'erhung  with  trees, 
And  saw,  below,  a  strange  mysterious  sight. 

At  first  appeared  a  smooth  and  empty  space. 
Yet  many  hued,  and  bright  with  silvery  light ; — 
[ts  surface  gently  moved,  and  yet  remained, 
And  as  he  gazed,  with  wonder  in  his  eyes. 
He  seemed  to  catch,  as  through  a  cleft  in  earth, 
A  glimpse  of  other  skies  and  other  clouds. 
Floating  in  strange  and  silent  majesty. 
And,  'neath  the  other  bank,  inverted  there. 
Were  rocks  and  trees,  twin  mates  of  those  above. 


26  Bionopsis. 

And  suddenly  ! — (He  started  at  the  sight ! ) — 
Below  his  feet  he  saw  a  human  form  ! 
(Ah  how  his  heart  did  flutter  with  surprise.) 
Just  like  his  own,  the  body  and  the  limbs, 
And  gazing  straight  in  his  inquiring  eyes, 
He  saw  a  face  of  wondrous  beauty  there. 
A-down  the  mossy  bank  at  once  he  slid, 
The  mystery  to  solve,  and  welcome,  meet, 
To  give  to  him  who  waited  there  below. — 
The  splashing  waters  laughed  at  his  mistake  ! 

He,  too  had  laughed ; — but  disappointment  felt 
To  find  that  form,  mere  image  of  his  own ! 
And  yet  with  wonder,  now,  he  gazed,  to  see 
More  of  himself  than  he  had  known  before. 

How  beautiful,  the  eyes  that  God  had  given 
To  see  the  wonders  of  his  wondrous  world  ! 
What  majesty,  and  beauty  in  his  face ! 
Yet  scarcely  paused  he  now,  to  think  of  self. 
With  curious  interest  filled  to  trace  the  cause 
Of  this  deceit  in  this  new  element. 

Standing  in  water  midway  to  his  knees, 

Through  the  pellucid  stream  he  saw  his  feet 

Firm  on  the  sands  below,  and  farther  on. 

Were  rocks,  and  shells,  and  pebbles  in  the  depths, 

Yet  on  the  surface,  still,  he  saw  the  forms 

Of  floating  clouds,  and  waving  boughs  o'er  head. 

Stooping,  he  smote  it  with  his  open  hand, 

Then  watched  the  sparkling  rings  that  sped  away 


Book  First — Opening  Life.  27 

Ou  every  hand,  e'en  to  the  further  shore. 

The  grateful  coolness  of  the  limpid  waves 

Was  pleasant  to  his  limbs.    He  dipped  again, 

Then  from  the  hollow  of  his  hand,  he  drank, 

And    was    refreshed.     Then    stooping    down    he 

scooped 
The  glittering  sands,  all  bright  with  grains  of  gold. 

He  gazed  with  wonder  on  the  shining  scales. 
But  Oh  how  little  thought  he  of  the  worth 
One  day  to  be  attached  to  such  dead  dust. 
Behold  him  as  with  scrutinizing  eyes 
He  scans  the  meaning  of  these  golden  types. 
O  Adam,  if,  with  keen  prox)hetic  sight, 
Thou  now  couldst  read  the  long  sad  tale  of  sin, 
And  woe,  and  crime,  these  symbols  might  foretell, — 
The  dreadful  fruit  of  undue  love  of  gold, — 
Methinks,  with  sudden,  shuddering  horror  filled 
And  sore  dismay,  and  agony  of  grief. 
And  wrath,  thou  quick  would' st  hurl  those  glitter- 
ing scales. 
As  some  foul  reptile,  from  thy  trembling  hand ! 

"  Eoot  of  all  evil "  is  the  love  of  gold. 

Thus  speaks  God's  Word  ;  and  history  records 

Evils  unnumbered  on  the  human  race. 

Which  love  of  gold  rather  than  love  of  God, 

And  trusting  more  in  gold  than  God,  have  wrought. 

O  metal,  "  precious  "  thou  art  called  by  men. 
And  deemed  the  key  of  mortal  happiness ! 
And  rightly  used,  thou  art  a  useful  link 


28  Bionopsis. 

To  bind  in  fair  exchange  and  mutual  weal 

The  universal  brotherhood  of  man. 

Nor  canst  thou  e'er  be  charged  with  human  crime. 

But  how  perverted  is  the  soul  of  man, 

That  thinks  in  thee,  his  happiness  resides, 

And  makes  of  thee  his  God.    From  such  mistakes 

There  flows  a  flood  of  human  misery. 

We  gaze  with  trembling  on  the  awful  scenes 

That  rise  like  dreadful  dreams  in  long  review. 

Before  our  aching  ej^es,  and  anguished  hearts. 

We  look  on  landscapes,  beautiful  and  sweet, 

With  peace  and  plenty  from  a  bounteous  heaven. 

But  suddenly,  behold !  the  clouds  of  hell 

Have  wrapped  us  in  !    And  hell  itself  appears  ! 

O  horrid  fields  of  blood,  and  hellish  wrath ! 

Can  these  be  men  %    They  rage  like  fiends  let  loose! 

Sporting  with  death  itself !    As  if  in  league 

With  him  who  holds  the  power  of  death  and  hell ! 

Whence  art  thou,  dreadful  wrath?    From  love  of 

gold  ! 
And  whence  thou  horde  of  dark,  malignant  crimes  % 
Ye  midnight  plottings,  and  ye  deeds  of  shame ; 
Ye  cabals  of  the  so  called  great  and  wise ; 
Ye  petty  cheatings  of  the  low  and  mean ; 
Ye  frauds  and  thefts  of  high  and  low  degree  ; 
Ye  base  oppressions  of  the  poor  and  weak ; 
Thou  *'sum  of  villanies,"  imbruting  men  ; 
And,  oh  !  chief  instrument  of  hell's  deceit, — 
Thou  cup  of  ruin,  fell  despair,  and  death, 
Destroying  human  souls  ;  and  last,  not  least, 


Book  First — Opening  Life.  29 

Thou  foul  betrayal  of  the  Lord  himself ! 
Whence  came  ye  all?    From  siuful  love  of  gold ! 

But  oh  how  little,  in  his  innocence, 

As  Adam  gazed  upon  these  glittering  sands 

Dreamed  he  of  all  this  catalogue  of  woes. 

So,  casting  from  his  hand  the  unprized  wealth, 

He  waded  to  the  lakelet's  further  side. 

And  sought  new  wonders  in  its  rocky  banks. 

And  still  new  treasures  met  his  curious  quest, 
Most  precious  gems,  of  hue  and  lustre  rare, 
Amidst  the  sands  or  in  the  clefts  of  rock, 
Diamonds  and  sapphires,  rubies,  amethysts, 
The  topaz,  and  the  emerald,  and  the  quartz, 
In  clustering  crystals,  beautiful  and  clear. 
As  beautiful  to  him,  these  common  gems 
As  th'  uncut  diamond's  richer,  rarer  light. 

But  leaving  all  behind,  he  climbed  again 

The  sloping  bank,  his  studies  to  pursue, — 

A  world  of  unknown  wonders  to  explore. 

Glancing  along  a  sunny  field,  he  saw 

A  pleasing  sight,  of  rich  and  clustering  fruit, 

Springing  direct  from  lap  of  Mother  Earth, 

And  peering  from  a  mass  of  emerald  green 

With  ruddy  brightness  in  the  morning  light 

Stooping,  with  curious  wonder  filled. 

He  plucked  and  tasted  with  a  keen  delight. 

Then  lying  at  full  length  along  the  grass. 

He  courteously  addressed  the  wellspread  feast : 

"  Bright  little  berries !    Some  remorse  I  feel 
To  spoil  your  beauty,  and  your  life  to  quench  5 


30  Bioiiopsis. 

But  he  who  made  you,  sure  will  not  forbid 
To  satisfy  my  hunger  with  your  sweets. 
And  wherefore  made  %  no  sentient  life  is  yours, 
Your  own  delightful  sweetness  to  enjoy, — 
Your  pain  had  else  been  minister  of  pain, — 
To  minister  delight  must  be  your  end. 
For  this  ye  shine  in  ruddy  splendor  bright. 
For  this  your  leaves,  their  emerald  hues  display. 

"  And  not  delight  alone,  nor  needful  food,— 

Instruction  too,  for  each  attentive  mind. 

Ye  have  in  store,  nor  can  the  store  be  won 

By  any  passing  glance ;  but  deep  research 

Will  find  still  deeper  truths  to  lure  it  on 

To  deeper  search,  and  truths  still  more  profound. 

The  more  I  learn,  still  more  I  find  to  learn. 

And  as  I  trace  the  shining  stream  of  truth, 

To  find  its  secret  fountain,  while  convinced, 

Still  more  and  more,  it  has  a  hidden  source. 

Too  high  for  me  to  scale,  too  deep  to  sound, 

I  also  learn  still  more,  and  more  of  God. 

I  see  his  wisdom,  goodness,  power  displayed 

On  every  side,  where'er  I  turn  my  eyes. 

Behold  this  feast,  delighting  every  sense. 

'Tis  not  alone  a  bounty  most  profuse ; — 

On  every  leaf  I  read  the  lines  of  thought. 

Of  well  linked  thought,  revealing  mind  to  mind 

What  if  I  cannot  reach  the  forming  mind, 

Or  see  the  tracing  hand  %    Must  I  infer 

There  is  no  thought  expressed,  no  mind  its  source' 

Absurdity  profound !    Folly  supreme ! 


Book  First — Opening  Life.  31 

By  plainest  inference,  in  me  the  fault ! 
And  mine  tlie  weakness !    Still  'tis  mine  to  learn, 
(Xor  rest  content  with  aught  save  highest  truth), 
To  learn  of  God  !    Deepest  of  all  delights ! 

"  How  curious  too  the  texture  of  these  leaves, 
Their  shape  and  frame-work  all  so  ai^tly  planned ! 
How  beautiful  in  hue  and  form  their  fruit ! 
How  rich  its  juicy  sweetness !  and  how  strange 
That  all  this  life  and  varied  beauty  springs 
From  this  same  soil,  this  cold  and  lifeless  earth." 

While  reasoning  thus,  he  saw,  with  new  surprise, 

A  host  of  other  guests  attend  the  feast. 

In  varied  forms  and  costumes  rich  and  gay. 

And  first  the  tiniest  of  these  creatures  gay, 

Came  gathering  in,  a  strange  and  motley  crowd, 

On  foot,  in  air,  and  some  by  flying  leaps ; 

Some  dressed  in  green  and  gold,  and  some  in  black, 

And  some  with  wings  in  rainbow  colors  dyed. 

Adam  looked  on  with  wonder  and  delight. 
To  hail  the  advent  of  a  higher  life 
Than  plants  and  fruit  fast  anchored  in  one  spot ; 
And,  watching  for  a  while  their  gay  antics 
Half  in  soliloquy,  he  thus  began : 

"  Strange  world !    Are  these  your  proper  citizens  % 
Quaint  little  people  !    Come  ye  all  as  friends  ? 
And  fit  companions  of  my  solitude  % 
Have   ye,  then,  souls,  like  mine?    And  have  ye 
speech 


32  Bionopsis. 

To  tell  your  thoughts  %    Or  have  ye  minds  to  think? 
Some  strange  intelligence  directs  your  course. 
Tell  me,  I  pray  you,  whence  and  why  ye  are? 
Have  ye  no  message  to  mj^  longing  soul  % 
Vouchsafe  ye  no  reply  %    And  come  ye  then, 
To  complicate  the  problem  strange  of  life  %  " 

Thus,  while  he  spoke,  he  lifted  up  his  eyes. 
And  lo  !     A  creature  fair,  with  outspread  wings, 
White  as  the  driven  snow,  came  fluttering  down. 
From  some  ethereal  height,  and  lighting  near. 
Looked  up  in  Adam's  face,  with  curious  eyes. 
But  spoke  no  word,  and  uttered  forth  no  sound. 
Till,  following  her,  another  came,  and  then — 
With  gentle  cooings,  and  with  kind  caress 
Of  crossing  bills,  they  told  their  tale  of  love. 
But  Adam  looked,  and  marvelling,  longed  to  know 
The  happy  secret ;  yet  he  asked  in  vain. 
They  spoke  a  language  all  unknown  to  him. 

These  were  but  couriers  of  the  coming  host 
That  gather  from  the  skies,  from  woods  and  fields, 
Of  every  shape,  and  size,  and  plumage  fair. 
From  the  tall  crane  with  stately  steps,  and  slow. 
E'en  to  the  humming-bird  with  wings  like  light. 

With  growing  wonder,  Adam  named  them  all, 
O'er  all  the  winged  hosts  himself  the  king. 
And  yet  two  things  he  almost  envied  them. 
The  one  the  power  to  mount  on  soaring  wings, 
To  heaven's  blue  height,  and  range  the  wide  world 
o'er, 


Pook  First — Opening  Life.  33 

The  other,  mated  love  ;  for  quick  he  saw 
He  lacked  au  element  of  soul's  delight, 
Which  they,  without  his  loftier  soul,  j)ossessed. 

And  while  he  meditated  and  admired, 
(The  whole  scene  full  of  beauty,  and  the  air 
Vocal  with  music,  worthy  Paradise) , 
He  saw  new  forms  approaching  from  the  woods ; 
The  graceful,  gentle  deer,  with  timid  steps 
And  eyes  so  large  and  full  of  liquid  light. 
With  wonder  watching  Adam's  wondering  eyes, 
Aud  close  behind,  the  lion,  king  of  beasts ; 
The  tall  giraffe,  and  merry  little  lamb  ; 
And  countless  hosts  of  living  creatures  came 
To  own  their  king  :  and  Adam  named  them  all. 

And  yet  for  Adam  no  helpmeet  was  found, 

And  no  congenial  soul  to  share  his  joys. 

And  when  he  saw  the  happy  mated  love 

Of  insects,  birds,  and  beasts,  and  witnessed  too 

Their  sweet,  mysterious  intercourse  of  thought 

His  own  great  solitude  oppressed  his  soul. 

A  God-like  empire  o'er  created  things 

Is  not  enough  to  satisfy  the  heart. 

And  God  himself  might  weary  of  a  realm, 

Where  love  met  no  response  of  happy  love. 

Thus  musing  on  his  isolated  lot, 
He  saw  the  sun  glide  slowly  down  the  west. 
The  birds  and  beasts  retired  to  darkening  woods. 
And  left  his  lonely  soul  to  solitude. 

2 


34  Bionopsis. 

The  parting  splendors  of  the  dying  day 

Now  caught  his  eye,  and  filled  his  raptured  thought 

The  clouds  that  gathered  in  the  western  skies 

To  bid  the  sinking  king  of  day  farewell, 

Arrayed  in  pomp  and  splendor  waited  there, 

Silent  and  grand.     High  up  the  arch  of  heaven, 

And  far  along  the  broad  horizon  spread, 

Bright  fleecy  forms  in  crimson  and  in  gold 

They  seemed  a  host  attendant  on  their  king. 

And  from  these  forms  a  mystic  glory  fell 

That  tinted  trees  and  hills  M'ith  rosy  light, 

So  beautiful,  and  yet  so  quickly  gone. 

It  seemed  that  earth  blushed  at  the  kiss  of  heaven  ! 

But  soon  the  king  of  day  sank  out  of  sight. 

The  morning  clouds  were  now  in  sack-cloth  dressed 

And  night  her  sable  pall  drew  o'er  the  skies. 

Adam,  at  first  with  solemn  awe  beheld 

The  fading  day,  and  gathering  shades  of  night. 

And  deeper  loneliness  came  o'er  his  soul. 

"Is  this  the  end  %    Shall  light  no  more  return  % 
And  is  my  life  one  strange  and  fleeting  day  % 
Surely  the  Power  Divine  that  placed  me  here, 
Hath  some  high  end  in  view,  and  will  reveal, 
To  patient  waiting,  his  all  wise  design." 
Then  bowing  low  he  lifted  up  his  prayer: 

"Infinite  mind!    Thy  wisdom  I  adore ! 
I  marvel  at  the  wonders  of  thy  hand. 
I  thank  thee  for  the  distant  view  of  thee 
I  have  this  day  beheld  in  all  thy  works. 


Book  First — Opetting  Life.  35 

Yet  long  to  learn  far  more,  and  nearer  still 
Be  brought  to  thee.    O  grant  me  this  request : 
If  yet  from  me  thou  wilt  thyself  conceal, 
At  least  reveal  thy  will,  that  I  may  do 
All  that  thou  would' st,  in  glad  obedience. 
And  oh  reveal  some  likeness  of  thyself 
To  rei)resent  thee,  whom  my  soul  may  love, 
And  with  whom,  sweet  communion  hold,  of  thee." 

He  ceased,  and  looking,  wondered  much  to  see 

The  deepening  darkness  of  the  gathering  night ; 

But,  glancing  up  to  heaven,  he  saw,  amazed, 

A  wondrous  sight !  the  glittering  hosts  above. 

Filling  the  dark  blue  vault  with  eyes  of  light; 

And  high  above  them  all,  serene  and  clear, 

The  silver  moon  sailed  midst  the  moving  clouds. 

With  new  delight,  Adam  beheld  them  all, 

And  long  he  gazed,  and  wondered  at  the  sight; 

Then,  when  the  dews  of  night  fell  damp  and  chill,. 

And  drowsiness  assumed  her  gentle  sway 

(Gentle,  but  strong  as  triple  bars  of  steel), 

He  sought  a  shelter  of  embowering  trees, 

And  made  a  couch  of  leaves  and  feathery  twigs. 

Then  laid  him  down  ;  but  now  sad,  lonely  thoughts 

Came  trooping  thick,  like  shadows,  to  his  mind. 

VVith  every  sense  attuned  to  keen  delight, 

And  not  one  jar  or  sharp,  discordant  note, 

His  harmony  of  life  was  incomplete; 

There  lacked  one  strain  of  purest  melody 

To  fill  his  inmost  soul  with  music  sweet, 

To  thrill  his  heart,  chord  answering  to  chord. 


36  Bionopsis. 

But  as  he  lay  and  slept,  lie  dreamed  strange  dreams. 
He  seemed  to  feel  a  hand  of  mighty  power, 
Laid  from  the  skies  upon  his  sleeping  frame, 
That  held  him  firm,  e'en  as  his  hand  might  hold 
A  little  Q,%g  to  free  the  imprisoned  bird. 
And  yet  he  feared  no  ill ;  although  he  lay 
All  heli3less  as  a  worm  within  that  grasp. 
He  kneW;  and  felt  it  was  the  selfsame  hand 
That  fashioned  first  his  form,  and  gave  it  life. 
And  now  a  face  of  infinite  majesty, 
Which  seemed  to  take  the  place  of  earth  and  sky 
(That  slunk  away  abashed,  and  disappeared), 
Gazed  through  his  frame  upon  his  awe  struck  soul ; 
For  in  that  gaze  were  gentleness  and  love, 

And,  in  that  countenance  divine,  he  saw 
A  likeness  of  himself     He  thanked  his  God, 
Who  heard  his  humble  prayer,  and  now  revealed, 
To  his  exalted  soul  (set  free  from  sense — 
The  world  itself  forgot)  his  glorious  face. 
And  now,  '  twas  manifest,  some  special  work 
Of  the  divine  compassion  was  designed ; 
And,  in  a  voice  of  sweetest  tenderness, 
Thus  spoke  the  Almighty  One. 

"  Be  not  afraid. 
I  come  to  bless  thee,  though  I  cause  thee  pain, 
To  grant  thy  prayer,  and  do  thee  greater  good — 
From  thine  own  bleeding  side  I  bring  thee  forth 
One  who  shall  be  to  thee  a  second  self. 
And  dearer  than  thyself;  for  whom  thyself 


Book  First — Opcni7ig  Life.  37 

Most  willingly  wouldst  bleed,  e'en  as  My  Son, 

In  ages  yet  to  come,  will  yield  his  side. 

For  liis  own  cherished  bride  to  ponr  his  blood." 

And  then  he  felt  a  sense,  unknown  before. 
Of  dreadful  pain  ! — of  mortal  agony  ! — 
As  if  his  soul  were  from  its  body  torn ! 
Forth  from  his  riven  side,  his  life-blood  flowed 
One  breath  of  prayer  ! — and  then ! — he  knew   no 
more! 


When  ruddy  morning  sent  her  heralds  forth 
To  tell  the  coming  of  the  king  of  day, 
And  many  a  tree-top  choir  their  sweetest  notes 
Attuned  to  melodies  of  pure  delight. 
To  hail  his  coming,  and  to  praise  their  Lord, 
Adam  awoke  from  slumbers  most  profound. 
At  first  he  lay  and  listened,  loth  to  lose 
One  liquid  note  of  that  entrancing  Psalm, 
And  felt  his  inmost  soul  attuned  to  praise. 
But  then  the  thought  of  his  own  solitude 
Came  back — the  single  shadow  o'er  his  soul: 
"  Why  should  the  birds  in  happy  chorus  join. 
While  I  must  lift  a  solitary  voice  V 

Then  he  remembered  his  mysterious  dream, 
And  hope  and  prayer  together  filled  his  soul, — 
Prayer  answered  ere  'twas  framed  anew  in  word. 

He  rose.     And  there  !  to  his  astonished  eyes. 
Appeared  his  answered  prayer ! — for  beauteous  Eve 


38  Bionopsis. 

Lay  sweetly  sleeping  on  his  humble  couch  ! 
O  sight  of  rapture !  Sight  to  move  his  soul 
To  sweetest  hope,  and  deepest  tenderness ! 

Afraid  to  break  the  stillness,  or  to  rouse. 
By  gentlest  touch,  the  angel  from  her  dreams, — 
Afraid  ! — lest, — some  fair  visitant  from  heaven, — 
Awakened,  she  might  spread  some  hidden  wings, 
And  vanish,  like  a  bird, — afraid  to  breathe 
Lest,  as  a  vision  bright  it  soon  might  fade. 
He  lifted  up  his  heart  in  praise  to  God  ! 
Then  sitting  gently  by  the  fair  one's  side. 
He  gazed  with  patience,  yet  with  eager  hope. 
Until  the  opening  of  those  fringed  lids 
Should  be  the  opening  of  new  worlds  to  him. 

O  Adam  !    Was  not  Paradise  enough, 
That  thou  shouldst  turn  from  all,  so  soon  forgot. 
To  yearn  for  her,  whom  graceless  wits  deride, 
To  seek  thy  Paradise  in  her  fond  heart  % 

Yes  for  a  time,  oblivious  of  all  else. — 
The  birds  their  sweetest  notes  employed  in  vain, 
The  morning  spread  her  splendors  in  the  east, 
Sweet  roses  cast  their  fi^agrance  on  the  air. 
And  tempting  fruits  spread  forth  a  rich  repast— 
The  lord  of  all,  enwiapt  in  every  sense. 
Was  conscious  only  of  her  sleeping  forni, 
Who,  all  unconscious,  held  his  captive  soul ! 

Each  graceful  ringlet  of  her  sunny  hair, 
Each  dimple  on  her  fair  and  rosy  cheeks, 


Book  First — Opening  Life.  39 

Each  smile  upon  her  ruby  lips, 
Each  geutle  heaving  of  her  snowy  breast, 
And  every  trace  of  thought  upon  her  brow 
Were  closely  watched,  and  treasured  in  his  heart. 

And  when  she  raised  her  eyes  of  heavenly  blue, 
All  full  of  deepest  wonder,  and  surprise, 
And  gazed  in  his,  so  piercing,  dark,  and  deep 
(Her  first  strange  glimpse  of  life),  it  thrilled 

through — 
Yet  still  his  lips  were  mute.    He  w^aited  hers. 

"  Art  thou  my  Maker  % " 

Adam  gently  laughed ; — 
And  yet  rejoiced  ;  for,  though  so  far  astray, 
The  question  showed  an  intellectual  life. 
"  Oh  no  !    Sweet  being.    We  are  twain,  yet  one. 
The  God  that  made  thee,  also  fashioned  me. 
He  made  the  world,  and  all  that  is  therein." 

"  But  how  %  and  when  %  and  why  % 
For  thou  art  wise." 

"  Ah,  fair  one,  easier  far  to  ask,  than  tell. 
And  yet  x>rofoundly  I  have  pondered  too 
These  questions  great,  thou  now  dost  ask  of  me, 
And  gladly  hear  thee  ask  the  same  ;  for  now 
I  hail  thee  helpmeet  in  the  problem  grand. 
Which  ours  it  is  to  solve,  by  life-long  quest. 
But  one  sweet  truth  I  tell  thee  now  with  joy, 
Bone  of  my  bone,  flesh  of  my  flesh  art  thou : 


40  Bionopsis. 

Sprung  from  my  sundered  side,  I  claim  thee  mine, 
And  I  am  thine.     For  thee  my  blood  was  shed. 
And  should  be  shed  again  if  there  be  need. 
As  I  am  Man,  Woman  thy  name  shall  be." 

"  I  scarce,  O  man,  can  understand  thy  words, 

Nor  yet  myself,  nor  aught  of  all  I  see. 

'Tis  mystery  all ! — yet  beautiful,  and  good ! 

I  look  with  wonder  on  that  blue  above. 

So  vast,  so  high,  so  decked  with  moving  forms, 

So  lit  with  dazzling  colors  in  the  east. 

And  with  a  light  too  bright  for  eyes  to  bear ! 

With  wonder  too  I  view  these  nearer  forms, 

Those  stately  pillars  rising  from  the  ground. 

Sustaining  verdant  arches  overhead, 

Which  seem  the  very  home  of  life  and  song. 

What  sweet,  what   rapturous  sounds  ring  througl 

them  all, 
And  oh  how  beautiful  these  little  gems, 
Of  tenderest  hue,  ui)Si)ringing  from  the  earth, 
That  breathe  out  fragrance  from  their  dewy  lips ! 
All,  all  is  beautiful ! 

Yet  I  confess — 
That  thou,  O  Man,  art  noblest  of  them  all, 
And  without  thee — " 

She  faltered,  and  a  light 
Illumed  her  eye,  more  tender  than  before  ! 
The  deepening  color  dyed  her  glowing  cheek, 
Telling  her  thought, — she  scarcely  dared  to  speak. 

Then  Adam  took  her  lovely  offered  hand, 


Book  First — Opening  Life.  41 

Aud,  with  his  bearded  lips,  impressed  a  kiss, 
That  spoke  and  sealed  the  inward  vow  of  each. 

"  I  freely  give  !  " 

'  I  fondly  claim  thee,  mine  !  " 

"  With  thee,  O  Man,  my  counsellor  and  friend, 
I  tremble  not,  though  all  things  seem  so  strange, 
With  thee  I'll  venture  forth  to  meet  the  world. 
From  thee  I'll  gladly  learn  the  lore  of  life  ; 
For  with  thy  presence  all  seems  full  of  joy. 
Sweet  is  the  smile  of  morning,  and  the  breath 
Of  dewy  flowers  ;  but  sweeter  far  thy  smile, 
At  which  my  heart  leaps  up,  and  sings  for  joy." 

"  O  lovely  Woman.    If  alone,  before 

'T were  joy  to  live  and  learn,  'tis  added  bliss, — 

Which  words  were  weak  to  tell, — that  thou  art  here 

Thou  art  another  world  !  another  self! 

In  thee,  self,  world,  and  loneliness  forgot ! 

Flower  of  my  being !    Fruitage  of  my  soul  I 

If  thou,  with  me,  art  brave  to  meet  the  world  ! 

With  thee  I'd  even  dare  to  leave  the  world  ! 

Oh  happy  lot,  to  share  the  world  with  thee  !  " 

Thus  Adam,  with  an  overflowing  joy 
Held  conference  sweet  with  this  dear  gift  of  heaven, 
Aud,  kneeling,  rendered  thanks  to  God  Supreme, 
While  Eve  devoutly  joined  with  heart  and  tongua 
Then,  listening  to  the  tuneful  feathered  choirs, 
She  tuned  lier  bird-like  voice  in  happy  song. 


42  Bionopsis. 

While  Adam's  basso  filled  the  harmony, 

And  led  the  thought  to  heights  yet  more  divine; 

"  O  Lord  of  all,  now  deign  to  hear 

The  grateful  song  we  raise, 
And  may  thy  grace  our  spirits  cheer, 

And  tune  our  hearts  to  praise. 

"  We  thank  thee.  Lord,  for  life  and  light, — 

For  all  thy  gifts  so  free, — 
Our  souls  are  filled  with  pure  delight 

That  all  still  speak  of  thee. 

"  Thyself  unseen,  thy  hand  we  trace 

Where'er  our  footsteps  turn; 
But  oh,  to  view  thy  glorious  face 

Our  hearts  within  us  burn. 

"Oh  guide  our  feet  in  wisdom's  way, 

And  fill  our  souls  with  light. 
Be  thou  the  rapture  of  our  day. 

And  comfort  of  our  night." 

Then,  hand  in  hand,  the  happy  pair  went  forth, 

In  careless  innocence,  and  happy  hope. 

To  learn  sweet  truths  by  their  great  Teacher  taught 

Of  wisdom,  goodness,  love,  and  power  divine. 

No  trksome  task  was  theirs.     No  close- walled  room 

Shut  out  sweet  sunlight,  or  pure  breath  of  heaven,— 

The  world  their  school -room,  and  the  vaulted  dome 

Of  heaven  its  roof,  and  nature  their  great  book. 

Free  as  the  wind,  to  roam  where'er  they  would. 


Book  First — Opening  Life.  43 

"With  steps  as  fleet  and  nimble  as  the  deer, 
With  ears  alert  to  hear,  and  eyes  to  see. 
And  minds  to  ponder  well  each  hidden  truth. 
They  drank  in  knowledge  with  a  deep  delight. 
When  day  was  done,  sweet  sleep,  with  magic  powei 
Stole  all  fatigue  away,  renewed  their  strength, 
Refreshed  their  souls,  and  plumed  for  fresh  delight 
Then,  in  the  silent  visions  of  the  night. 
They  heard  a  voice: — 

"  I  come  to  grant  your  prayer 
(To  hear  and  answer  prayer  is  my  delight): 
There  is  for  you  a  Paradise  prepared, 
The  home  desired,  where  I  will  oft  reveal 
My  presence,  yet  more  clearly,  to  your  sight. 
When  first  the  morning  greets  the  blushing  East, 
And  gilds  with  splendor  all  the  Orient  skies. 
Thither  direct  your  steps,  and  ye  shall  find 
That  home  most  beautiful,  secure  and  blest." 

They  woke  and  told  their  dreams  with  joyful  hearts, 
Then  after  happy  converse,  prayer  and  praise 
Lay  down  again,  and  slej)t,  while  angels  watched 
And  kept  their  happy  bower  secure  from  harm. 

In  his  favor  is  life. — Ps.  xxx.  5. 


'^^-(A. 


PROEM. 

O  Thou  Supreme,  from  whom  all  power  proceeds, 
Known  througb  the  earth,  by  signs  and  mighty 

deeds. 
Yet  hid  in  mystery  from  mortal  eyes, 
In  light,  in  darkness,  or  in  azure  skies. 
Grant  me,  thy  servant,  one  clear  glimpse  of  thee. 
Where  thou  dost  dwell  in  glorious  majesty. 

Thy  sceptre.  Lord,  with  all  resistless  might, 
Extends  beyond  the  utmost  reach  of  light. 
The  dark  and  bottomless  abyss  of  woe 
Can  yield  no  refuge  to  an  impious  foe. 
And  e'en  creation's  utmost  realms  are  blest. 
Where'er  thy  rightful  empire  is  confessed. 
Nor  power  alone, — wisdom,  and  love  divine 
(For  loving  souls)  through  all  thy  dealings  shine 

Should  mortals  then,  against  their  God  engage. 
And  for  thy  foes  a  hopeless  warfare  wage. 
Scorning  the  goodness  of  their  heavenly  Friend. 
Against  his  will,  and  their  own  weal  contend  ? 
Such  guilt  and  folly  is  the  dreadful  fruit 
Of  primal  sin,  all  evil's  bitter  root. 

47 


BOOK     SECOND. 

When  earliest  dawn  inspired  the  tuneful  birds 

To  give  glad  greeting  to  approaching  day, 

The  happy  pair  awoke,  from  slumbers  sweet, 

With  new  delight  to  join  the  psalm  of  life; 

With  every  fibre  of  their  being  tuned, 

Accordant  with  the  universal  joy; 

With  health,  and  innocence,  and  cheerful  hope; 

Surrounded,  too,  by  all  things  bright  and  good. 

Each  trill  of  melody  within  their  ears 

Awaked  fond  echoes  in  their  inmost  souls; 

And  mingled  perfume  sweet,  from  wild- wood  flowers 

Conveyed  inspiring  uuperceived  delights. 

While  every  branch  that  overhung  their  couch. 

Low  bending,  as  a  verdant  canopy, 

IVIore  beautiful  than  lace  or  arras  rich. 

Presented  fruits,  that  in  their  mouths  might  drop 

Of  most  delicious  sweetness  to  the  taste  ! 

All,  all  was  beautiful  and  good.     And  yet 

Their  highest  bliss  was  in  each  other  found, 

Their  first  delight  to  find  each  other  near. 

And  each  to  read  the  tale  of  fondest  love. 

That  shone  so  brightly  in  each  other's  eyes. 

It  is  not  given  to  mortal  tongue  to  tell. 
Nor  thought  profane  the  temple  to  invade, 
Nor  groveling  passion  to  attain  the  height 
Of  joys  accorded  pure  and  holy  souls 

49 


50  Bionopsis. 

Linked  happily  in  sacred  wedded  love. 

Their  blissful  thoughts  of  gratitude  they  breathe 

In  love  to  Him  from  whom  all  love  proceeds, 

And  each,  in  other,  finds  his  love  expressed. 

No  troublous  cares  disturbed  their  happy  souls. 

For  Eve,  no  load  of  heavy  household  tasks, 

No  anxious  questionings,    "  What  shall  we  eat. 

What  shall  we  drink,  or  what  put  on,"  this  day,- 

No  kitchen  dark,  nor  hot  nor  smoldering  fire, 

Nor  implements  of  culinary  art, 

Nor  strange  mishaps,  her  gentle  soul  to  vex. 

Nor  torment  of  perverse  domestic  help, — 

Helpers  to  ease,  but  hindrances  to  grace. 

Nature  herself,  with  bounteous  hand,  well  filled, 

Offered  the  daintiest  fruits,  in  form  and  hue, 

And  richest  flavor  to  her  out-stretched  hand. 

Needing  no  help,  herself  was  true  help-meet 

To  him  she  loved,  to  lift  his  soul  towards  heaven. 

And,  gazing  in  her  eyes,  Adam  beheld 

A  dream  of  beauty,  realized  in  her. 

Perfect  and  pure,  beyond  his  highest  dreams. 

For  Adam's  soul  no  rude  alarms  of  war. 
Or  strife  of  business  scarcely  less  intense, 
Affrighted  all  the  rapture  of  his  soul, 
E'en  as  the  cooing  bird  by  cruel  gun, — 
No  horrid  scream,  careering  'moug  the  hills. 
Nor  rush  and  rumbling  roar  of  iron  wheels 
Warned  him  to  hasten  to  the  crowded  mart. 
No  loud  and  dismal  gong  dispelled  his  dreams. 
And  bade  him  to  a  factory's  prison  walls, 


Book  Second — The  Rule  of  Life.  51 

Midst  buzz  of  whirring  wheels,  and  oil,  aud  dirt, 

Where  weary  hours  of  dull  routine  are  passed, 

Aud  tasks  so  oft  repeated  that  the  soul 

Seems  dwarfed  to  likeness  of  the  dead  machine 

All,  all,  was  peace,  aud  bliss,  and  soft  repose. 

Yet  talked  they  much  of  prospects,  aud  of  plaus, 

Of  happy  search  to  find  out  more  of  Him, 

Their  one  great  Friend,  eluding  still  their  sight, 

Yet  granting  every  other  fondest  wish, 

And  crowning  all  their  lives  with  love  and  light. 

And  when  the  light  grew  brighter  in  the  east, 

They  issued  forth  to  find  their  promised  home. 

A  path  of  splendor  met  their  tranced  gaze, 

All  lit  with  pearls  and  gems  of  every  hue, 

And  leading  to  the  very  gates  of  day  ; 

For  every  leaf,  and  tender,  grassy  spire. 

In  all  the  broad  expanse,  was  pearled  with  dew. 

With  joyous  hearts  they  traced  the  shining  road 

Until,  at  length,  they  reached  fair  Eden's  wall, — 

A  tall  aud  dense  impenetrable  hedge, 

Through  which  no  foul,  nor  ravenous  beast  might 

.  pass. 
Yet  gladly  oped  the  gates  at  their  approach. 
And  glad  they  entered  in,  while  sweet- voiced  birds 
Sang  loud  their  welcome  into  Paradise  ! 
Entrancing  beauty  filled  them  with  delight. 
The  wild  luxuriance  of  nature  here 
Was  chastened  by  the  hand  of  highest  art. 
Bright  velvet  lawns  appeared,  and  shady  walks, 
And  gay  parterres  of  sweet  and  brilliant  flowers, 


52  Bionopsis. 

Auil  i)urling  brooks,   winding  through  fields  and 

glens 
With  many  a  cool  cascade,  to  seek,  at  length. 
Nirvana  in  the  bosom  of  the  deep  ; 
And  gem-like  lakes,  that  opened  out  to  streams, 
Whose  four  great  heads  at  length  were  blent  in  one, 
A  noble  river,  clear  and  broad,  and  deep; 
And  orchards  rich  with  blossoms  and  rii^e  fruit, 
The  pulpy  fig,  whose  fruit  precedes  its  leaf, 
Sweeter  than  manna  to  the  grateful  sense, 
The  juicy  orange,  with  its  golden  rind, 
The  pear,  the  apple,  and  the  luscious  peach, 
Pomegranate,  olive,  mango,  and  the  grape. 
Whose  purple  clusters  bid  the  soul  rejoice; 
And  endless  store  besides,  whose  very  names 
Might  fill  the  page,  their  virtues  all  untold. 
And  here  and  there  they  found  some  cool  retreat, 
Far  from  the  fervor  of  the  summer  sun. 
There, — shady  nook,  with  huge  recumbent  tree, 
Winding  and  twisting  with  its  gnarled  limbs, 
A  natural  summer  house  of  curious  shape. 
And  draped,  and  bedded  with  the  long  gray  moss 
So  soft  and  grateful  to  the  wearied  limbs  • 
And  here — a  grotto  in  a  towering  cliff, 
A  fairy  palace  in  its  beauty  rare, 
With  curious  stalactites,  and  stalagmites, 
In  fluted  columns,  pendants,  arches,  crypts, 
Of  alabaster  whiteness,  or  with  shades. 
And  delicate  tints  of  many  a  pleasing  hue, 
While  here  and  there  full  many  a  precious  gem 
Or  crystal  rare,  sparkled  and  burned  with  light. 


Book  Second —  The  Rule  of  Life.  53 

The  long  day  passed  away,  in  peace  and  joy, 
In  curious  study  of  things  new  and  strange, 
Or  happy  contemplation  of  the  old  : 
For  lovely  nature  opened  wide  her  book. 
So  full  of  treasured  wisdom  and  of  love. 
And  happy  students  found ;  for  every  page 
Displaj^ed  the  impress  of  their  Father's  hand. 

The  signs  and  symbols  of  his  heavenly  care, 
Writ  on  each  leaf,  shining  in  every  gem. 
Whispered  in  notes  of  lute  like  melody. 
Distilled  in  nectar  from  ambrosial  fruits. 
In- wrought  in  flowers  of  every  shade  and  hue, 
And  breathed  in  fragrance  on  the  ambient  air 
(That  like  His  Spirit  filled  their  souls  with  life) ; 
All,  all  met  glad  responses  in  their  hearts. 

And  oft  the  raptures  of  their  souls  o'erflowed, 
In  notes  of  irrepressible  delight, 
E'en  as  the  gladness  of  some  little  bird 
Bursts  from  its  swelling  throat,  without  restraint. 
Careless  of  listeners,  'tis  impelled  to  pour 
Its  pent  up  rapture  to  the  ear  of  heaven, 
Yet  finds  glad  audience  in  the  ear  of  earth. 
And  so  the  rich,  sweet  harmony,  that  flowed 
From  happy  human  hearts,  and  human  tongues 
Charmed  every  hearer.     Loud  and  sweet  it  rung 
Through  all  the  happy  groves  of  Paradise, 
Winding  and  echoing  through  the  silent  glens, 
Till  far  off  mountains  caught  the  faint  refrain  ! 
It  rose  and  fell  in  happy  cadences, 


54  Bionopsis. 

Now  giisliing,  like  a  fountain  from  the  depths, 

Now  rippling  with  a  trilling  melody, 

Now  in  full  chorus,  like  a  grand  cascade. 

The  little  songsters,  on  their  leafy  twigs. 

Were  hushed  to  listen  with  a  new  delight 

(For  if  'tis  pleasant  to  pour  forth  the  heart 

In  happy  song,  'tis  pleasant  too  to  hear 

The  music  of  glad  hearts  and  tuneful  tongues,— 

Sweetest  of  all,  to  those  who  know  the  song, 

And  find  its  praises  echoing  in  their  hearts). 

The  listening  deer  stood  with  their  ears  erect 

To  catch  the  strain,  and  every  gentle  thing 

The  music  heard,  with  wonder  and  delight ; 

But  best  of  all  their  voices  reached  to  heaven. 

And  God,  the  Father,  who  himself  had  tuned 

Their  hearts  to  sing,  was  pleased  to  hear  the  song. 

Then  arm  in  arm,  through  their  dear  Paradise, 

They  walked  the  shaded  paths,  o'erarched  by  elms. 

Or  winding  by  the  brook,  or  through  the  dell, 

Or  up  the  rocky  height,  or  on  the  bluff 

Where  sudden  landscapes  open  to  their  sight, 

Or  views  of  lakes,  and  streams  and  islets  bright, 

Of  wondrous  beauty  to  their  raptured  eyes. 

Thus,  arm  in  arm,  with  many  a  fond  caress. 

With  happy  conversation,  song,  and  prayer. 

They  roamed  their  fair  domain,  and  traced  that 

hand, 
Mysterious,  that  had  laid  those  winding  walks, 
Those  flowers,  and  fruits  had  planted,  and  had  led 
Their  feet  in  safety  to  this  promised  home. 


Book  Second —  The  Rule  of  Life.  55 

At  every  turn  they  almost  hoped  to  see 
His  smiling  face,  and  hear  his  gentle  voice, 
And  oft  they  felt  his  sacred  presence  near, 
And  present  joy  was  thrilled  with  lively  hope 
Of  higher  rapture,  when  He  stood  revealed. 

Thus  passed  the  happy  day,  and  at  its  close 
They  watched  the  splendors  of  its  ebbing  light, 
From  open  summer  house,  a  safe  retreat 
From  falling  dews,  and  on  their  mossy  couch 
Eeposed  their  limbs,  while  broad  and  bright  the 

moon 
Uprose  to  grace  anew  the  charming  hour. 

Then,  in  the  cool  of  evening,  One  appeared 

(Enhaloed  by  a  gentle,  holy  light, 

And  with  a  countenance  serenely  sweet), 

"Whose  form,  divine,  was  like  the  Son  of  Man. 

Before  him  every  other  light  grew  dim, 

And  disappeared,  and  every  other  form, 

Even  the  best  beloved,  was  forgot. 

Wonder,  delight,  and  holy  awe,  and  love 

Possessed  their  souls.     Low  at  his  feet  they  bowed  .; 

But  soon  with  gentle  hand  he  raised  them  up. 

And  long  they  held  communion,  high  and  sweet, 

Concerning  things  they  most  desired  to  know, 

God's  purposes  of  love,  and  tender  care. 

And  hints  of  future  wonders,  and  of  bliss 

Too  high  for  their  young  souls  to  understand. 

Nor  can  our  sinful  minds  well  comprehend 

The  nearness  of  their  intercourse  with  God, 


56  Bionopsis. 

Nor  on  their  conference  venture  to  intrude, 
Nor  dare  presume  to  guess  the  very  words, 
Of  love  and  goodness  uttered  by  the  Lord. 
Yet  if  we  venture,  in  our  own  weak  words, 
The  thoughts  ran  thus. 

"My  children,  lo,  I  come. 
At  your  request,  to  show  my  love,  and  teach 
Your  duty,  wisdom,  and  the  will  of  God. 
That  which  already  ye  begin  to  know 
Shall  ever  be,  without  exception  true. 
Your  deepest  peace,  and  highest  happiness 
Eequire  obedience  true,  in  heart  and  life. 
To  every  preceiDt  of  eternal  truth. 
The  least  departure  from  these  precepts  sure, 
In  devious  and  forbidden  ways  of  sin. 
Involves  sad  consequence  of  guilt  and  woe, 
No  mortal  mind  can  trace,  nor  tongue  can  tell. 
Your  God  is  full  of  love,  and  wills  your  peace, 
Your  highest  weal,  and  everlasting  bliss ; 
But  God  himself  can  never  make  you  blest 
Against  the  laws  of  everlasting  truth. 
Your  soul's  best  welfare  must  be  ever  found 
Not  in  external  things  which  please  the  sense, 
But  in  its  own  perfection.    That  must  be 
According  to  the  law  of  God  and  truth. 

"  Nor  for  yourselves  alone  ye  stand  or  fall ; 
Unnumbered  multitudes  shall  spring  from  you. 
Be  fruitful  then,  and  multiply,  and  thus 
Eeplenish  all  the  earth.    Subdue  it  all, 
And  have  dominion  over  land  and  sea, 


Book  Second —  T/ic  Rule  of  Life.  57 

A-ud  over  every  living  thing  that  moves. 
And  while  ye  rule  o'er  all  things  else  on  earth, 
Ye  must  yourselves  be  subject  to  the  Lord. 

"  Yet  will  I  now  impose  no  hard  commands 
But  easy  test  of  your  obedience  give. 
Of  all  the  garden  ye  may  freely  eat, 
Of  every  tree  and  plant  of  every  kind  : 
But  in  the  midst  there  stands  the  tree  of  life, 
"Whose  fruit  your  true  obedience  may  reward. 
And  uear  it  stands  the  tree  whose  fatal  fruit 
Ye  must  not  eat,  nor  taste,  nor  even  touch. 
Its  fruit  is  fair,  and  has  mysterious  power. 
Knowledge  of  good  and  evil  it  imparts 
(Of  evil  gained,  and  good  unwisely  lost). 
Such  knowledge  folly  learns,  true  wisdom  shuns. 
To  eat  that  fruit  is  certain  death,  and  woe." 

Then  low  they  bowed,  with  reverential  awe, 
And  Adam  spoke, 

"  O  Lord  we  worship  Thee. 
To  see  Thee,  long  has  been  our  dearest  wish, 
To  learn  thy  holy  will.     Thy  will  is  ours. 
We  asked  thy  teaching,  and  we  thank  Thee,  taught. 
We  praise  Thee  too,  with  overflowing  hearts. 
For  bounties  more  than  we  can  comprehend, 
For  largest  liberty  and  highest  bliss. 
Obedience  to  thy  word  shall  be  our  joy. 
And,  since  obedience  must  have  some  sure  test. 
We  thank  thy  goodness  'tis  for  our  own  good. 
Ko  hard  condition  has  that  goodness  laid. 


58  Bionopsis. 

'Tis  not  to  toil,  nor  do  the  things  we  hate, 
Nor  leave  undone  what  we  desire  to  do. 
(Else  this  had  proved  our  souls  defiled  with  sin), 
But  easy  test,  to  shun  the  thing  we  dread, 
And  do  whate'er  may  cause  us  most  delight. 

''  Hadst  thou  commanded  what  was  hard  and  wrong, 

Or  sure  to  cause  us  pain  and  misery, 

We  might  have  deemed  it  irksome  to  obey, 

And  called  it  bondage  to  be  bound  by  law. 

But  now  we  find  thy  law  is  liberty  ! 

It  makes  us  heirs  of  God,  from  folly  free." 

"Well  have  ye  answered  to  your  King's  command. 
And  now  the  blessing  of  the  Lord  be  yours." 

Thus  spoke  the  Lord,   whose  word  each  blessing 

brings. 
His  benediction  closed  the  conference  sweet, 
As  since,  among  the  assemblies  of  his  saints. 

And  now  to  darker  themes  we  turn  our  thoughts. 
Most  sad,  yet  needful  rightly  to  review, 
The  wiles  of  Satan,  who,  with  hellish  craft. 
And  foul  deceit  man's  ruin  sought  through  sin 
How  such  a  monster  in  the  realms  of  light, 
So  full  of  hate  to  God  and  holy  truth, 
Sprang  into  being,  where  all  else  was  good. 
Must  ever  be  a  problem  dark  and  deep, 
Beyond  man's  power  to  solve,  while  vailed  in  flesh. 
Yet  still  'tis  given  to  human  thought  to  range 


Book  Second — The  Rule  of  Life.  59 

Through  other  worlds,  and  bring  dark  things  to 

light. 
To  weigh  the  planets  and  to  trace  their  course, 
To  tell  of  past  events  and  things  to  come, 
Conjunction,  occultation,  and  eclipse. 
And  so,  by  various  hints,  we  gather  much 
Of  spirit  life,  whose  outer  form  is  hid. 
"We  need  not  deem  that  souls  in  other  worlds 
Have  bodies  built,  like  ours,  of  flesh  and  blood, 
Or  any  substance  more  or  less  opaque. 
Or  more  or  less  enduring,  rare,  or  dense. 
What  mortal  bodies  could  endure  to  live 
In  Mercury's  heat  intense?  or  in  the  cold 
(More  di-ead  than  that  which  girds  the  lifeless  Pole,) 
Of  great  Uranus,  in  her  far-off  realm  % 
Yet  he,  who  made  these  worlds,  hath  power  to  form 
Inhabitants  for  all  conditions  meet, 
With  life  as  various  as  the  worlds  themselves. 

And  now,  kind  reader,  if,  on  venturous  wings, 
Set  free  from  close  constraint  of  fleshly  forms, 
Your  thought,  with  mine,  will  leave  this  atmosphere. 
Which,  filled  with  light,  vails  other  worlds  from 

view. 
And  oft  is  foul  with  fogs,  and  girt  with  clouds, 
We'll  seek  the  secret  source  of  primal  sin. — 
Alas  !  too  late  !  to  check  the  dreadful  tide, 
That  rolls  its  dark  and  deadly  depths  along, 
Through  all  the  ages,  and  o'er  all  the  tribes 
Of  human  life,  and  still  must  ever  roll. 
Deepening  and  darkening  till  the  day  of  doom. — 


6o  Bionopsis. 

Too  late !  to  check  it  by  our  feeble  power, 
Or  wisdom,  lioliness  or  sacrifice ! 
We  tremble  at  the  flood's  resistless  might, 
And  cry  aloud,  "  O  God,  all  wise  and  good, 
How  could  this  ruin  'scape  thy  watchful  eyef 
Or    flow,    with    thy    consent,   through  thine  oA-rn 

realms?" 
We  stand  perplexed,  astounded  and  confused. 
Without  one  glimmer  in  the  dark  profound ! 
Till  God's  own  purpose  dawns  upon  our  souls, 
The  "Sun  of  Eighteousness,"  at  last  appears 
"  With  healing  in  his  wings,"  and  life  springs  up, 
A  deathless  Phcenix,  victor  over  death ! 

But  if  too  late  we  reach  the  secret  source, 
To  check  the  stream  of  universal  woe. 
Well  will  it  be,  for  our  own  private  weal, 
To  check  its  earliest  entrance  to  our  souls. 

Adieu,  fair  world ! — a  fond  and  brief  adieu ! 
We  voyagers  through  trackless  depths  of  space, 
To  unknown  worlds,  hope  to  return  ere  long, 
With  deeper  lore,  and  wiser  love  for  thee. 

O  Father  of  our  spirits,  grant,  we  pray, 
Deliverance  by  thy  spirit  to  our  souls. 
For  brief  excursion  from  this  world  of  sense. 
And  convoy  strong,  until  our  safe  return. 
O  sacred  Pneuma,  Euah  of  the  past, 
The  Breath  that  breathed  us  mortals  into  life, 
Who  now  a  new  life  doth  impart  to  all 
Who  willingly  resign  themselves  to  thee, 


Book  Second — The  Rule  of  Life,  6 1 

And  new  name,  dear  to  souls  redeemed,  hast  gained, 
The  Holy  Ghost,  the  sacred  Paraclete, 
Dwelling  en  templed  in  the  sanctified, 
Ensphere  us  with  thyself,  and  bear  aloft ; 
For  'tis  in  Thee  we  live  and  move  on  earth. 
And,  borne  by  Thee,  our  souls  may  safely  fly 
Through  empty  space,  void  of  the  breath  of  life. 

Casting  our  souls  thus  safely  on  his  hands, 
Our  poor  heads  pillowed  on  his  loving  arm, 
We  mount,  we  know  not  how,  nor  even  see 
The  earth  depart,  so  quickly  is  it  fled. 
Yet  note  we  flrst  the  vast  blue  arch  of  heaven 
With  fleecy  clouds  o'erspread,  lit  up  with  light, 
Gentle  and  sweet  as  from  an  unseen  moon. 

But  soon  above  the  clouds,  beyond  the  moon. 
We  speed,  like  light,  for  fifty  million  miles, 
And  soon  discern  the  ruddy  face  of  Mars, 
Looming,  yet  in  a  moment  gone. 

This  quickly  past,  confusion  seems  to  reign. 
For,  flashing  by  us,  as  on  wings  of  light. 
And  darting  hither,  thither,  right  and  left, 
Metereolites,  or  Asteroids  fly  past. 
And,  whizzing  near  us  with  a  fiery  blaze, 
And  long  broad  trail  of  light,  a  comet  speeds 
Its  strange  erratic  course.     Soon  pass  we  all, 
And  then  the  mighty  orb  of  Jupiter, 
With  belts  so  broad,  and  moons  so  beautiful. 
Then  Saturn  with  her  silvery  rings,  and  moons 
And  then  Uranus,  also  Neptune,  then ! 


62  Bionopsis. 

With  fond  regret  we  turn  to  view  these  worlds, 
Associated  by  the  deep  decree  of  heaven, 
Each  by  familiar  neighborhood  so  bound 
In  common  interest,  lighted  by  one  sun, 
Yet  knowing  naught  of  other's  weal  or  woe. 
O  worlds  of  teeming  life,  of  hopes  and  fears 
And  fond  affections,  busy  brains,  and  hands, 
How  little  think  ye  of  the  eyes  that  gaze 
From  lofty  heights  upon  your  wild  career  ! 
How  mad  upon  the  present !  how  remiss 
Concerning  future  welfare  !  how  untaught 
By  past  experience  !  yea  how  blind  and  deaf, 
To  notes  and  signs  of  warning  from  above. 

And  now  we  launch  upon  a  shoreless  sea. 

Without  a  bottom,  surface,  current,  wave  ! 

No  azure  dome  conceals  the  topless  height. 

No  land  or  earthly  seas,  the  infinite  depths, 

No  dim  horizon  shuts  the  prospect  in. 

No  sound  disturbs  the  awful  solitude, 

No  life  appears,  no  atmosphere  pervades 

The  abyssmal  spaces,  nor  do  clouds  reflect 

The  scattered  light,  and  thus  illuminate 

The  solemn  darkness  of  the  night  profound. 

No  pale  faced  moon  sends  forth  her  gentle  rays — 

Our  old  familiar  sun  has  dwindled  down, 

Until  his  fiery  disk  is  almost  lost, 

A  mere,  faint  si)eck  of  dim  uncertain  light ! 

Vanished,  long  since  his  planetary  worlds. 

But  all  around,  on  every  side, — before. 


Book  Second—  The  Ride  of  Life.  63 

Behind,  above,  below,  witli  steady  light, 

Shine  countless  hosts  of  stars  !    Our  souls  seem  lost 

In  infinite  heights,  for  as  we  gaze  below 

On  that  strange  sight,  of  stars  beneath  our  feet, 

In  place  ol  vanished  earth,  thought  lies  confused, 

And  momentary  sickness  fills  the  heart. 

An  awful  dread  of  all  the  dreary  void 

Pervades  the  soul.    We  even  di-ead  the  stars, 

That  gaze  upon  ns  with  their  sleepless  eyes, 

And  seem  to  read  our  thoughts,  themselves  involved 

In  mystery  profound,  so  cold,  so  mute, 

Without  the  faintest  whisper  of  a  sound, 

With  solemn  stillness,  glaring  through  the  gloom. 

But  soon,  recovered,  we  discern  with  joy 

Familiar  stars  to  guide  us  on  our  way, 

Nor  do  we  find,  although  so  far  removed 

Beyond  the  orbit  of  our  solar  worlds, 

Their  constellated  places  wholly  changed. 

In  distances  so  vast  these  changes  grow 

By  slow  degrees.    Our  solar  system  speeds 

A  hundred  million  miles,  and  more,  each  year 

From  Canis  Major  and  Orion,  yet 

The  dwindling  of  their  space  is  scarce  perceived, 

And  scarcely  more  the  openings  of  space. 

In  constellations  which  our  worlds  approach. 

But  whither  shall  we  steer  %  or  shall  we  drift 
Without  a  pilot,  compass,  chart  or  port  ? 
The  answer  comes  ;  for,  by  the  dim  star  light, 
We  now  discern,  v.ith  more  accustomed  eyes, 


64  Bionopsis. 

A  spiritual  form,  that  safely  guides 

The  spirit  bark,  in  which  our  spirits  sail. 

E'en  so  Elijah's  chariot  of  flame, 

Was  visible  to  one  of  spirit  power. 

With  deepest  veneration  we  regard 

The  angel  presence.    Has  he  heart  of  love, 

Like  human  heart,  and  mind  to  comprehend 

Our  human  needs,  and  power  to  grant  us  aid  ?'^ 

We  speak : 

"  O  angel  spirit,  iu  thy  care. 
Our  souls  explore,  the  wondrous  works  of  God. 
And,  sent  by  him,  thou'rt  surely  wise  and  good. 
Tell  us,  we  pray  thee,  thy  celestial  name  ; 
And  whither  dost  thou  guide  our  aerial  bark?" 

"  My  heavenly  name  is  kept  from  mortal  ears ; 
And  names  by  mortals  given,  e'en  to  the  stars 
Of  heathen  heroes,  gods,  and  goddesses, 
Are  uttered  not  in  heaven.    God  giveth  all 
True  names,  more  worthy  of  his  heavenly  praise. 
The  constellations,  too,  are  not  the  groups 
They  seem  to  earthly  eyes,  but  distant  stars. 
Along  the  range  of  human  sight  seem  near, 
And  nearer,  wide  apart :  yet  do  they  serve 
As  useful  waymarks  in  earth's  annual  course. 
Our  way  lies  due  north-east,  the  same  your  suu. 
With  all  his  planets,  steadily  pursues. 
We  but  out-speed  his  flight.    But  would  you  see 
Your  splendid  luminary  now  %    Behold, 
Far,  far  below  us  in  our  upward  flight. 
Mark  ye  yon  twinkling  light.     It  is  j'^our  Sol. 


Book  Second—  The  Rule  of  Life.  65 

A  new  star  added  to  the  Southern  Cross  ! 

Already  is  it  in  fourth  magnitude  ; — 

His  convoyed  worlds  long  vanished.    Then  observe 

How  rearward  constellations  seem  to  close 

The  stars  of  lesser  magnitude  fade  out. 

The  greater,  dwindling,  gradually  approach. 

Thus  different  constellations  blend  in  one. 

Observe  too  all  around  us,  still  below, 

(Though  at  an  angle  scarcely  ten  degrees 

Below  th'  horizon's  place)  yon  starry  hosts 

Discern  ye  not  the  old  familiar  signs ! 

There,  on  our  left,  see  Aries  lead  the  van. 

Next  fiery  Taurus,  charging  in  hot  haste. 

Bright  Aldebaran  glitters  in  his  eye, 

And,  in  his  neck,  the  gentle  Pleiades 

Shed  forth  their  influence  sweet.    Alcyone, 

That  wondrous  star,  their  central  light,  so  dim 

As  scarce  to  claim  a  thought  from  mortal  minds, 

Shines  with  the  light  of  sixteen  thousand  suns ! 

Amazing  fact :  Which  well  deserves  the  place 

It  has  in  minds  of  wise  astronomers. 

No  other  star,  within  the  ken  of  man, 

Or  in  the  range  of  his  arithmetic, 

Shines  with  such  glorious,  such  transcendent  li(!;iit. 

"Wise  men  have  wondered  if  this  light  (unseen 

By  earth's  great  multitudes,  and  yet  so  vast 

Beyond  all  others  in  th'  expanse  of  heaven), 

Be  not  the  central  sun  around  which  all 

Eevolve,  subservient,  with  attendant  worlds ! 

And  some  have  thought  the  veiy  throne  of  God 


66  Bionopsis. 

Doth  shine  like  that,  and  in  such  central  place. 
An  '•  influence  sweet,'  indeed,  which  none  can  bind, 
Is  that  which  issues  from  God's  holy  throne. 
But  clouds  and  darkness  still  are  round  about, 
Although  God  dwells  in  light  none  can  approach  ; 
Nor  heaven,  nor  heaven  of  heavens  can  him  contain 

But  press  we  on  ;  nor  can  we  stay  to  mark 

The  varying  splendors  of  the  starry  host; 

For  '•  one  star  diff'reth  from  another  star 

In  glory.'     Yet  alike,  they  all  declare 

The  greater  glory  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts. 

In  lustrous  hues  of  green,  and  blue,  and  gold. 

Some  strangely  shine  ;  and  sometimes  double  suns 

Eevolving  round  each  other,  claim  our  thought ; 

And  nebulous  clouds  condense  and  flame  in  stars. 

E'en  so  at  night,  across  the  wat'ry  deep. 

You  see  a  distant  city's  clustering  lights. 

At  first  a  dim  faint  line,  a  nebulous  glow 

But,  as  you  nearer  draw,  each  single  light 

Shines  out,  distinct,  with  splendor  of  its  own. 

"  Now  turn  your  eyes  to  yonder  glorious  host. 
Towards  which  we  hold  our  course.     It  lies  between 
Draco,  and  Ursa  Minor,  on  our  left, 
Bootes,  and  Ursa  Major,  on  our  right. 
The  second  holds  the  Pole  Star  to  our  gaze, 
So  long  the  guide  of  earthly  mariners, 
Arcturus,  with  his  sons,  adorns  the  third. 
But  pass  we  all,  though  rich  with  wonders  too, 
For  lo !    Yon  wondrous  stellar  galaxy, 


Book  Second —  The  Rule  of  Life.  67 

lu  Hercules,  sublime  and  beautiful 

Beyond  all  praise,  beyond  the  power  of  words 

To  utter  forth,  attracts  our  tranced  sight. 

"Thither  we  bend  our  course.     Wise  men  have  said 
They  scarce,  at  first,  could  vicAV  the  wondrous  scene. 
Without  a  shout  of  wonder  and  delight. 
A  host  of  brilliant  suns,  outvieing  each 
The  other  in  their  glorious  beauty,  join, 
A  splendid  fleet  upon  the  dark  expanse. 

"  And  seest  thou  one,  that  shines  pre-eminent  ? 
O  Lucifer !     '  Son  of  the  Morn,'  alas ! 
How  art  thou  fallen  from  thy  high  estate  ! 
Among  the  highest  of  the  Sons  of  G  od, 
Glory  and  honor,  once  were  richly  thine. 
Now,  worst  and  lowest  of  his  wretched  foes, 
Thy  glory  and  thy  bliss  forever  lost, 
Thou'rt  doomed  to  darkness, and  to  fell  despair! " 

While  speaking  thus  the  angel  steers  our  bark 
Direct  for  that  fair  world.    Increasing  light 
Greets  our  approach,  clearer  and  clearer  still. 
The  gloom  of  night  departs,  and  brightest  day 
Bursts  on  our  view,  too  bright  for  eyes 
Of  mortal  mould,  and  only  spirits  pure 
Could  long  endure  its  heart-revealing  power! 
Ten  thousand  suns  blaze  in  this  wondrous  sky, 
And  yon  strange  world,  itself  a  glowing  Sun, 
Knows  naught  of  night,  nor  eve,  nor  morn,  nor  noon 

O  wondrous  world !     As  we  aijproaeh,  thy  light, 
That  seemed  so  fierce,  dissolves  in  tenderness 


68  Bioiiopsis. 

Through  atmosphere  so  pure,  so  clear,  so  sweet, 

That  to  the  raptured  soul,  to  see,  to  breathe, 

Were  pure  delight :  but  O  my  trembling  soul, 

Why  art  thou  filled  with  dread  %    And  O  fair  world 

Why  sittest  thou  so  solitary,  sad, 

And  like  a  widow  vailed,  in  face  and  form  % 

A  vail  of  myst'ry,  awful  and  profound. 

Is  that  which  hides  thee,  which  I  dread  to  lift, 

As  if  some  Gorgon  horror  were  concealed. 

And  yet  I  long  to  know  the  meaning  sad, 

Of  mystery  so  dark,  in  world  so  bright. 

And  woe  so  deep  within  the  home  of  bliss. 

"  Lead  on,  O  angel  guide,  and  show  me  all." 

Down  from  our  lofty  height  our  bark  descends, 
And  lo,  beneath  our  feet  we  see,  enshrined. 
Perpetual  desolation  in  the  home 
Of  beauty,  such  as  Eden  never  saw, 
Unfading  day,  unmarred  by  clouds  or  storms, 
And  yet  with  rich  variety  of  light. 
And  many  a  pleasant  change,  reigns  here  supreme. 
Such  day  pure  spirits  only  could  endure, 
Unwearying  souls,  '^  which  sleep  not,  day  nor  night.'" 

Descending  lower,  to  our  view  outspread, 

A  landscape  strange,  meets  our  astonished  sight. 

The  wild  luxuriance  of  nature  here. 

Exceeds  earth's  tropic  richness,  yet  subdued. 

And  chastened,  and  ai-ranged  by  art  divine, 

The  mountains  blue,  which  rear  their  lofty  heads^ 

To  fringe  the  wondrous  scene,  enclose  a  vale 

Of  bliss,  beyond  what  Easselas  revealed. 


Book  Second —  The  Rule  of  Life.  69 

Fair  fields  of  verdure,  groves  of  deeper  green, 
And  silvery  lakes,  and  streamlets,  gleaming  bright, 
Salute  our  eyes :  but  brightest  of  them  all, 
Dotting  the  landscape  o'er,  with  mystic  light. 
Are  star-like  spots,  we  scarce  can  understand. 
Pointing  to  one  outshining  all  the  rest, 
"We  ask  our  guide, 

"  What  means  yon  blaze  of  light?' 
"  'Twas  Lucifer's  fair  capital,  long  since. 
The  fairest  city  in  the  realms  of  light. 
Foi-saken  now,  and  desolate  it  stands, 
Perpetual  monument  of  God's  just  wrath 
Against  his  worst  and  earliest  foes !    '  Behold 
The  goodness  and  severity  of  God  ! ' 
Could  aught  more  blest  or  beautiful  be  found, 
Than  this  fair  world,  gem  of  the  starry  host. 
All  radiant  with  the  glory  of  the  Lord  ! 
Yet  sinful  discontent  hath  entered  here, 
And  robbed  its  blest  inhabitants  of  bliss. 
O  dreadful  doom  of  those,  who,  once  so  high 
Stood  in  the  favor  of  Almighty  God, 
Now  hurled  to  Hell's  abyss  of  shame  and  woe. 
Sinking  by  natural  gravity  of  sin, 
To  deeper  depths  of  hellish  wickedness, 
And  most  malignant  enmity  to  God. 

"  Alas,  alas,  that  spirits  formed  to  rise 
To  loftier  heights  of  majesty  and  bliss, 
Nearer  the  throne  of  God,  the  Source  of  good, 
Should  choose  a  false  and  evil  way,  that  leads, — 
Through  devious  paths  of  stubbornness,  and  sin, 


70  Bionopsis. 

Selfish  ambition,  discontent,  and  pride, — 
Down  to  the  shades  of  death  and  fell  despair." 

"  But  how  could  these  things  be  ? "  We  ask  our  guide. 
"How  could  sin  issue  from  a  fountain  pure? 
Or  how  be  entertained  by  sinless  souls  % 
Or  how,  without  a  father,  was  it  born  % " 

'■'■  Thou  askest  questions  deep,  of  mysteries  dark. 

And  hard  to  comprehend,  nor  is  it  yet 

To  sinful  man  by  revelation  given 

To  learn  the  source  of  sin ; — enough  to  know 

Its  dreadful  i^ower  and  doom  ; — yet  I  may  tell 

The  sinful  act  that  brought  the  penalty 

Upon  the  dwellers  in  these  homes  of  light, 

Of  banishment  eternal  from  those  homes, 

And  from  the  blessed  presence  of  the  Lord. 

Then  you,  j^erchance.  may  guess  how  sin  was  born 

"  When  God  first  breathed  these  spirits  into  life 
He  linked  them  not,  as  yours,  to  carnal  forms. 
Yet  names  and  '  local  habitations '  gave. 
Sense  to  discern  the  beautiful  and  true. 
And  souls  to  love,  and  to  rejoice  in  good. 
And  gave  them  '  richly  all  things  to  enjoy.' 

' '  Endowed  with  power  to  soar  to  distant  worlds, 
They  had  the  hope  permission  would  be  given, 
And  yet  were  taught  to  wait  the  will  of  God. 
At  first  no  other  thoughts  than  those  of  love, 
And  gratitude,  and  loyalty  to  God 
Possessed  their  souls,  and  perfect  joy  was  theirs, 


Book  Second —  The  Rule  of  Life.  7 1 

And  oft  their  bliss  to  highest  rapture  rose. 

But  curiosity,  too  oft  indulged, 

To  roam  th'  inviting  fields  of  boundless  space, 

And  visit  other  fair  and  glittering  worlds, 

And  thus  to  grow  in  knowledge,  more  like  God, 

At  length,  overcame  their  scruples,  and  inspired 

Their  fervent  souls  with  wishes  and  with  hopes, 

Growing  to  smouldering  sparks  of  strange  desire. 

Thus  contemplation  of  forbidden  things 

Is  dangerous  to  peace  and  purity. 

If  duty  bids  us  view  them,  wisdom  cries, 

'  Beware  of  fond  desire.'     'Tis  this  gives  birth 

To  sin,  and,  unrestrained,  itself  is  sin. 

The  scout  who  reconnoitres  hostile  camps 

Must  be  alert,  and  vigilant,  or  else. 

Slain,  or  a  captive  he  may  end  his  war. 

Basest  of  all,  and  most  unfaithful  he, 

Who  tampers  with  the  foe,  and  traitor  proves, 

And  turns  an  enemy  to  once  loved  friends. 

"  The  strong  desires  of  these  unhappy  souls, 
Bred  discontent  with  all  their  pui'est  joys, 
And  turned  the  sweetest  cup  to  bitterness. 
They  brooded  o'er  their  lot  of  close  constraint, 
And  soon  began  to  utter  forth  their  griefs, 
Each  in  the  other's  willing  ear,  and  thus. 
Kindled,  by  mutual  heat,  the  fiercest  flames 
Bursting  through  all  restraint,  and  bringing  death 
To  holy  aspirations,  love,  and  peace. 

"  At  length,  in  general  conclave,  they  decreed 


72  Bionopsis. 

An  expedition  to  explore  the  depths 
Of  infinite  space,  and  visit  other  worlds." 

While  speaking  thus,  the  angel  steers  our  bark 
Down  to  the  very  suburbs  of  the  place, 
Ere  we,  absorbed  with  his  strange  tale,  observe 
The  splendor  of  the  scene. 

At  last  we  land. 
And  lo  !    Amazing  sight  !  magnificence 
Sublimity,  and  beauty  richly  joined  ! 
An  unwalled  city  lies  before  our  eyes, 
Shining  with  splendor,  far  beyond  the  power 
Of  language  to  convey,  or  human  sight 
Undazzled  to  behold.     But  spirits  pure 
Could  view  unhurt,  with  infinite  delight. 
1^0  dingy  factories,  nor  toiling  mills 
Pour  forth  their  smoke  and  steam,  to  foul  the  air 
No  low-roofed  shops,  nor  filthy  tenements 
Arise  to  mar  the  beauty  of  the  scene. 
Naught  to  defile  or  to  ©ffend  is  there, 
In  all  that  wondrous  city's  vast  extent ; 
But  stately  edifices,  fair,  and  grand, 
And  domes,  and  steeples  towering  toward  the  skies 
Of  temples  or  of  halls  of  science  fair  ! 
The  humblest  dwellings  to  our  wondering  eyes 
Seem  splendid  palaces,  which  kings  of  earth 
Might  view  with  envious  eyes. 
Yet  in  such  varying  styles,  proportions,  hues 
And  mystic  hints  of  architectural  art, 
Kaleidoscopic  power  could  scarce  excel. 


Bcwk  Second — 'J'/u-  Kic/v  oj  Lijc.  73 

Awhile  we  view,  with  wonder  and  delight. 
But  soon  our  souls  are  filled  with  deepest  dread, 
By  sense  of  desolation,  deep  and  dire. 
Proclaiming  everlasting  wrath  divine. 

Mysterious  stillness  rests  upon  the  place. 

Oppressing  every  sense  with  solemn  awe. 

It  is  not  that  we  miss  the  noisy  stir, 

The  rumbling  and  the  roar  of  business  life ; 

For  well  we  deem  that  spirits  need  not  toil 

In  earthly  merchandise,  nor  urge  their  teams 

With  clumsy  vehicles,  and  heavy  loads 

Through  crowded,  dusty  streets.     Far  other  toils 

And  other  pleasures  fill  their  busy  lives. 

Xor  is  the  silence  that  of  drowsy  night. 

Subduing  every  sense  with  slumbers  sweet ; 

For  e'en  the  deepest  night  has  some  relief 

In  living  sound  ;  but  night  is  absent  here ; 

Perpetual  day  illumes  the  city's  towers. 

Yet  silence,  most  opijressive  reigns — the  gloom, 

The  dreadful  gloom  of  stillness,  worse  than  night- 

That  testifies  of  spiritual  death! 

Too  deep  for  lamentation  or  for  tears 

The  pulseless  grief,  that  reigns  uuuttered  here — 

Darker  than  weeds  of  widowhood  the  woe, 

Where  e'en  the  signs  of  mourning  are  forbid, 

And  shame  abides  with  grief, — in  silence  sealed. 

With  trembling  step  we  press  the  empty  streets, 
And  view  with  wonder  each  mysterious  sign 
Of  undecaying  wrath,  inscribed  so  plain 


74  Bionopsis. 

On  every  stone,  that  he  who  runs  may  read, 
No  grass,  nor  weeds  start  from  the  unnsed  pave 
And  in  neglected  gardens  gay  with  flowers, 
Cultured  and  trained,  as  if  by  constant  care, 
No  thorns,  nor  thistles  curse  the  virgin  soil. 
No  moss  nor  lichen,  fasten  on  the  stones. 
Dilapidation  finds  no  entrance  here ; 
And  all  corroding  time  in  vain  attempts 
To  fix  the  print  of  his  remorseless  teeth 
On  forms  here  made  impervious  to  decay. 
But  rottenness,  and  ruin,  mould,  and  taint, 
Though  causing  deep  disgust,  were  cheerful  sights 
Compared  to  this  deep,  monumental  woe. 
This  dreadful  perpetuity  of  doom. 
Amazed,  we  stand  and  view  with  heavy  hearts 
The  empty  palaces,  and  lonely  streets. 
Overwhelmed  to  think,  that,  in  this  city  vast, 
So  full  of  splendor,  not  a  soul  remains. 
Where  once,  celestial  forms,  preeminent 
For  dignity  and  beauty,  thronged  the  streets, 
And  voices  loud,  of  gladness,  and  the  notes 
Of  music  tilled  the  air,  and  happy  hearts, — 
Thrilled  with  an  inexpressible  delight, — 
Sang  loud 

"Praise  God  from  whom  all  blessings  flow." 

"Where  are  they  now  f     We  ask  our  silent  guide. 
And  "  What  the  issue  of  their  strange  decree  % 
And  why  return  they  not?  -' 

"Alas!"  said  he, 
One  who  decrees  within  his  inmost  soul, 


Book  Second — The  Rule  of  Life.  75 

Against  the  firm  decree  of  highest  heaven, 

Parts  company  forever  from  its  bliss, 

Unless  redeemed  by  all  transcendent  grace ! 

The  boatman,  with  his  oar  against  the  beach, 

And  pushing  hard,  moves  not  the  solid  land; 

(Can  finite,  then  o'er  infinite  prevail !) 

Himself  he  separates,  and  swift  the  tide 

Bears  him  away,  unless  his  power  and  will 

Bring  him  again.     But  nature  here  forbids. 

As  well  might  one,  dropped  from  mid  air,  remount 

The  lost  balloon,  as  spirits  lost  regain 

Rejected  blessings,  by  their  i)ower  alone, 

What  they  decreed — they  did; — not  one  by  one. 

Each  for  himself  alone,  or  drawing  on 

Involuntary  sharers  in  their  doom, 

(Heirs  of  their  woe,  though  free  from  actual  sin,) 

But  joined  in  deep  conspiracy  in  guilt. 

Deliberately  they  planned,  and  boldly  dared, 

*  heft  their  oiim  habitations!^  and  forsook 

The  guardianship,  and  favor  of  their  God ! 


"  And  now  these  palaces  are  closed  and  sealed. 
Adorned  with  all  things  beautiful  and  good, 
Imperishable  signs  of  righteous  wrath, 
Eemembered  (Oh  so  bitterly)  in  Hell, 
With  vain  regrets,  and  wrath  most  impotent, 
Begetting  deeper  hate,  and  darker  woe  ! " 


"  Oh  turpitude  of  folly  ! "  we  exclaim 
"Oh  folly  indescribable  of  sin  ! 


76  Bionopsis. 

Oh  myst'ry  of  iniquity !     Oh  base 
Ingratitude !  rebellion  !     AVild  self  will ! 
How  could  intelligent  and  happy  souls 
So  far  forsake  their  senses,  joy,  and  peace, 
And  leave  the  certain  for  uncertainty. 
Distrusting  One  all  Faithful,  Wise  and  True, 
And  making  ill  returns  to  One  All  Good?" 

"Such  is  the  power  of  sin,"  our  guide  replies, 
"It  makes  the  ill  seem  good,  and  darkness  ligbt, 
And  folly  wisdom,  and  th'  uncertain  sure, 
Blinding  the  eyes  and  hardening  every  heart. 

"But  do  not  mortals  make  the  same  strange  choice, 
Though  opposite  in  form,  in  essence  one  % 
They  leave  not  heaven  possessed,  but  cling  to  earth 
In  which  (forbidden  to  abide)  they  dwell 
As  if  forever,  while  they  seek  not  Heaven, 
Where  God  invites  them  to  abide  with  him. 
They  love  the  world,  though  full  of  sin  and  woe. 
More  than  they  love  their  God,  or  Heaven  itself. 
So  full  of  perfect  bliss,  and  set  their  wills 
Against  the  firm  decree  of  changeless  fate." 


"  Kee'p  yourselves  in  the  love  of  God,  looking  for 
the  mercy  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  unto  eternal  life.'''' 
Jude  21st. 


"N®  Lofi  m 


PROEM. 

O  thou  blest  Fount,  from  which  all  being  springs, 
Author  aucl  End  of  all  created  things, 
Unnumbered  worlds  thy  sovereign  will  obey, 
And  own  thy  boundless  and  resistless  sway. 
Goodness  and  wisdom,  equally  are  thine ; 
In  every  world  and  glittering  star  they  shine, 
Thy  creatures  well  may  trust  thy  guiding  mind, 
And  seek  in  thee  their  happiness  to  find. 
No  power  nor  wisdom  may  thy  will  defeat. 
"Out  of  the  eater  thou  canst  bring  forth  meat." 
Thy  will  supreme,  supremely  good,  and  wise. 
Even  from  evil  bids  the  good  arise. 
But  Avoe  to  him  who  dares  thy  power  defy. 
We  read  '•  the  soul  that  sinneth  it  shall  die." 
Obedience  to  thee  is  man's  first  law, 
Who  from  thy  hand  his  just  reward  must  draw, 
To  dwell  with  thee  his  most  exalted  hope, 
To  know  thy  will  his  wisdom's  utmost  scope. 
To  serve  thee  here  is  now  his  sweetest  joy, 
And  soon  in  Heaven  shall  be  his  blest  employ. 
What  then  the  happy  secret  herein  taught, 
The  "Summum  Bouum,"  long  by  sages  sought. 
Of  man?    What  ends  the  doubtful  strife? 
'  Tis  this,  "  In  thy  true  favor  is  his  life,-'' — 
'■'■  Better  than  life  thy  loving  kindness  is:  " — 
To  love  and  dwell  iciih  Thee,  his  highest  bliss. 

77 


BOOK   THIRD. 

Return  we  now  to  Earth,  forbid  to  trace, 

Tbrougli   devious  ways,   the  dark  and  downward 

course 
Of  spirits  banished,  by  their  own  free  act, 
From  God's  blest  presence,  and  celestial  homos, 
And  doomed,  like  wandering  stars,  to  endless  night 
Whose  blackest  darkness  is  for  them  reserved. 
Night  settled  on  their  inmost  souls, — ^the  night 
Of  gloom  and  deep  despair,  and  bitterest  wrath, 
That  comes  from  conscious  enmity  to  God  ; — 
Their  chief  delight  henceforth  to  thwart  the  will 
Of  Him  who  wills  the  highest  weal  of  all. 

And  now  (alas  for  man !)  we  find  them  here, 
In  this  fair  world  of  innocence  and  peace. 
To  kindle  war  in  guileless  human  hearts, 
And  unrelenting  enmity  to  God. 

Alas!    Alas  !  must  men  then  live  unwarned  ? 
Xay,  warning  fii"st  was  given  from  God  himself, 
What  warning  more  could  men  receive  than  this, 
God's  word. 
"  Tlw  soul  that  sinneth  it  shall  die  f  " 

It  grieves  to  tell  the  sad  and  shameful  tale 
Of  man's  forgetfulness  of  God  and  truth, 
And  all  the  woe  that  from  his  sin  ensued. 

79 


So  Bionopsis. 

Yet  sin  must  be  exposed,  and  thus  condemned, 
That  grace  and  trutli  may  triumph  over  all. 

Behold  vre  then,  once  more,  the  happy  pair, 
Whose  biul  of  joy  hath  blossomed  into  bliss. 
No  blight  seems  near,  nor  can  they  dream  of  ill, 
Where  all  seems  good. 

But  ah  !  could  they  foresee 
The  dreadful  train  of  sorrows,  pains,  and  sins. 
The  long,  long  years  of  war,  and  want,  and  woe. 
That  must  ensue  from  their  first  act  of  sin, 
'T would  cast  a  shadow  o'er  their  present  bliss, 
Or  waken  in  their  hearts  such  firm  resolve 
Temptation  to  resist,  and  sin  to  shun. 
As  hellish  art  might  seek  in  vain  to  shake. 
Ah  no  !  such  foresight  is  not  given.    'Tis  ours 
To  hear  the  word  divine,  and,  if  we  heed. 
Ours  is  the  great  reward.     But  unbelief 
Beclouds  the  vision,  hides  the  heavenly  w^orld, 
Muffles  the  ears  to  harmonies  divine. 
Smothers  all  holy  thoughts  and  pure  desires, 
Kills  heavenly  aspirations,  heavenly  hopes. 
And  all  divine  affections  ;  gratitude. 
And  true  repentance,  with  its  healing  balm. 
And  happy  sense  of  reconciling  grace; 
And  peace,  sweet  peace,  pure,  deep  and  full, 
' '  The  world  can  neither  give  nor  take  away," 
Forth  flowing  from  the  very  throne  of  God; 
And  joy  in  God,  sublime  and  holy  joy, 
A  joy  which  oft  with  heavenly  rapture  glows, 
And  filial  love  to  God  for  love  received. 


Book   Third — No  Life  in  Unbelief.  8l 

Fuilli  may  be  deemed,  by  some,  a  feeble  sense, 

Scarce  able  to  p(>rceive  with  ceilaiiity 

The  lhiiij;s  iu visible  to  fleshly  eyes, — 

And  love,  a  slender  cord  to  bind  once  more 

The  soul  of  man,  once  parted  from  his  God. 

But  unbelief  destroys  that  feeble  sense — 

Extinguishes  the  faint  and  glimmering  ray 

That  leads  obedient  souls  to  clearer  light, 

Quenches  the  feeble  spark,  that,  fanned,  would  burn 

To  bright  and  glowing  flames,  and  cuts  the  cord 

Upholding  trusting  souls,  like  bands  of  steel. 

Sad  unbelief  brings  no  refreshment  sweet 

To  souls  that  thirst  for  showers  of  heavenly  grace. 

The  clouds  of  unbelief  are  dismal  clouds, 

That  hold  no  water,  desolating  clouds 

That  tender  shoots  of  vegetation  blast, 

l']'en  as  the  dread  simoon,  or  sulphurous  smoke 

'i'hat  issues  from  some  dark  volcanic  pit. 

Dark  unbelief  confers  no  benefit 

On  man,  quickens  no  faculties  for  good. 

Brings  no  emancipation  from  the  bad, 

No  true  illumination,  no  true  strength. 

Kindles  no  true  ambition,  no  desire 

To  raise  immortal  souls  from  depths  of  sin. 

Denying  self  that  others  may  be  blest. 

It  shows  not  heavenly  worlds,  nor  leads  the  way 

But  magnifies  the  fleeting  now  of  time, 

Not  to  ensure  a  blest  eternity. 

But  more  to  hide  it  from  the  guilty  mind. 

Thus  unbelief  perverts  the  moral  sense, 


82  Bionopsis. 

Withdraws  the  soul  from  all  its  noblest  aims, 
Diverts  it  from  its  proper  centre,  God, 
Belittles  life,  and  desolates  the  heart! 

But,  %yorst  of  all,  it  scorns  the  incarnate  Word, 
Of  mercy,  grace,  and  truth,  and  love  divine, 
It  calls  the  holy  word  of  God,  a  lie, 
And,  with  satanic  arrogance,  it  pours 
Contempt  on  sacred  things,  and  all  that's  good, 
Defies  the  wrath  of  heaven,  rejects  its  love, 
Struts  out  its  little  day,  and  dies !  accursed  ! 
The  Word  of  God  embalms  great  acts  of  faith. 
Of  mighty  prowess,  and  of  power  divine. 
Which  won  true  titles  of  nobility, 
And  shining  names  that  nevermore  may  fade. 
But  one  sad  act  of  sinful  unbelief 
Brought  ruin  on  the  race,  and  shame  and  woe, 
Which  no  mere  mortal  ever  could  repair. 

One  summer  day  Eve  wanders  forth  alone. 

In  artless  innocence,  and  thoughtless  glee, 

Holding  sweet  conference  with  each  bright  eyed  bird 

That  tunes  its  softest  notes  at  her  approacb, 

And  flowers  that  blush  with  tenderest  delight. 

She  dreams  bright  day  dreams  of  dear  love  and  hope, 

Unconscious  all  of  foe  or  danger  near. 

Now  is  the  Tempter's  ojjportunity  ! 
With  eager  eyes,  quick  to  discern  his  prey, 
As  cruel  hawk  his  quariy  from  the  skies, 
He  sees,  and  swift,  descends  with  hellish  joy, 


Book  Third — A'o  Life  in  Unbelief.  83 

Yet  needs  in  spiritual  ambush  liide 
From  Eve's  clear  eyes  of  innocence,  the  while 
He  watches  every  step,  and  lures  her  on, 
By  slow  degrees,  down  to  her  dreadful  doom. 
Alone,  uucounselled,  weak,  and  innocent, 
She  follows,  like  a  lamb  to  slaughter  led. 

Oh  Adam !  where  art  tliou  ?    At  home !  asleep  ? 
Or  busy  with  the  garden's  pleasant  cares? 
Absorbed  with  problems  recondite  and  vast. 
Or  wrapt  in  meditation  so  profound 
Thou  dost  not  miss  thy  dear  companion's  voice  ? 
Alas !    Alas !  woe  worth  the  dreadful  day 
That  left  thy  dearest  treasure  so  unkept ! 

Eve's  steps,  by  curious  gravitation  drawn, 
Il^ow  tend,  insensibly,  to  that  dread  spot 
AYhich  truest  wisdom  taught  her  steps  to  shun. 
Yet  dreams  she  not  of  treason  to  her  God, 
Though  fast  the  Tempter's  arts  beguile  her  soul. 

Astonished  at  the  sight  of  that  fair  tree, 
Laden  with  fruits  so  strange  and  beautiful. 
She  stops  and  views  it  with  devouring  eyes. 

Still  sweetly  sing  the  birds  a  song  of  peace  ; 

But  Eve  stands  trembling,  while  she  longs  to  taste. 

With  lips  apart,  flushed  cheeks,  and  fluttering  heart, 

With  God's  dread  prohibition  in  her  mind. 

And  now  she  feels  the  first  faint  trace  of  doubt 

Of  love  and  goodness  in  the  Lord  she  loved. 

Ah  not  in  vain  was  Satan's  whispering, 


84  Bionopsis. 

That  God  had  needless  laid  a  hard  restraint. 
But  as  she  gazes  through  the  branches  fair, 
She  sees  there,  gliding,  sinuous  through  the  leaves, 
A  lithesome  creature,  glittering  in  the  sun, 
With  hues  most  charming  to  a  stranger's  eye, 
And  feasting  on  the  fruits,  well  pleased,  and  safe. 

"How  darest  thou,"  she  cries,  '' transgress  God's 

law? 
Knowest  thou  thy  doom?    The  eater  is  to  die, — 
Some  dreadful  doom  I  scarce  can  comprehend." 

At  this  the  wily  serpent  seems  to  laugh 

A  merry  laugh,  though  mingled  with  contempt. 

For  Satan  now  a  full  possession  held. 

And  serpent-form  becomes  his  type  henceforth. 

And  while  the  birds  still  sing  theii*  song  of  peace, 

A  gentle  murmur  issues  from  the  tree. 

Produced,  no  doubt,  by  some  satanic  art, 

Causing  the  serpent's  tongue  appear  to  speak. 

"  Oh  Eve,  behold  me  at  my  hai:>py  feast. 
Unharmed  I  eat,  and  grow  divinely  wise. 
Hath  God  then  said,  ye  '  shall  not  eat '  as  well  ? 
Ye  shall  not  surely  die,  for  God  doth  know 
That  ye  shall  be  as  Gods, — wise  to  discern 
With  open  eyes  the  evil  from  the  good  ; 
Taste  for  thyself,  and  know  my  words  aie  true 
A  being  like  thyself,  God-like  and  fail-. 
Beyond  all  creatures  on  the  earth,  must  knoAv 
More  than  the  crawling  worm.    And  yet,  behold, 


Book   Third — No  Life  in   Unbelief.  85 

I  now  perceive,  more  clearly  than  thyself, 
My  rights,  my  safety,  and  my  happiness." 

Flattered,  and  piqued,  and  filled  with  strong  desire, 
Seeing  the  fruit  most ''  pleasing  to  the  eyes," 
And  "good  for  food,  and  much  to  be  desired 
To  make  one  wise,"  Eve  ventures  near  the  tree 
With  hesitating  steps,  and  stretches  forth 
Her  trembling  hands,  and  i)lucks  and  tastes  the 
fruit ! 

And  still  the  birds  sing  on  their  song  of  peace « 

But  lo !  her  husband  calls  her  cherished  naiiR' ! 
And  in  a  moment,  following  in  her  steps. 
He  sees  her  standing  at  the  fatal  tree ! 

Astonished  at  the  sight,  he  stands  appalled  ! 
Transfixed,  amazed,  heart  chilled,  with  fear,  and  woe  I 

At  length  he  cries 

"  Oh  Eve  !    My  soul,  my  life, 
How  sport  est  thou  with  death?  Hast  thou  forgot? 
Or  darest  thou  resist  the  will  of  God  % 
Art  thou  more  wise  than  he?    Dost  thou  defy 
The  threatened  doom  of  those  who  disobey  ? 
Where,  now,  is  all  the  love  and  giatitude 
Thou  ow'st  to  him  who  made  all  nature  good. 
And  gave  thee  all  things  richly  to  enjoy, 
And  only  said  '•  Thou  must  not  taste  of  this  ? ' 
Alas  !  alas  !  thy  heart  hath  been  deceived  ! 
And,  oh  my  soul,  what  woe  doth  now  betide? " 


86  Bionopsis. 

Eve,  startled  at  his  call,  had  almost  dropped 
The  fatal  fruit,  with  sense  of  shame  and  guilt, 
But  seeing  now  his  piteous  grief  and  fear. 
She  even  smiled  at  such  excess  of  woe, 
Deeming  herself  enlightened  and  unharmed, 
And  saying  in  her  heart 

"  Mistaken  soul ! 
He,  ignorant,  imagines  all  is  lost : 
But  I  have  wiser  grown,  and  soon  will  cure 
His  causeless  grief." 

'■ '  Oh  Adam  !  why  so  dazed  % 
Dismiss  thy  fears,  and  listen  to  my  words. 
This  tree  of  knowledge  I  have  tasted  now, 
My  eyes  are  opened,  and  I  feel  no  harm. 
Let  me  instruct  thee,  and  persuade  thee  too. 
No  fruit  yet  tasted  so  affects  the  mind. 
My  soul  expanded,  soars  to  loftier  realms. 
I  seem  to  walk  on  air,  to  breathe  new  life, 
I  better  understand  the  secret  laws 
Which  hold  the  universe  in  harmony. 
I  view  no  longer  here  a  solitude, 
But  see  the  Avorld,  in  vision,  filled  with  souls, 
And  other  worlds  replete  with  sentient  life. 
Come  eat  with  me.    Thy  soul  shall  vie  with  mine 
To  press  through  this  new  gate  of  knowledge  fair.'" 

Thus,  with  persuasive  accents.  Eve  allures 
The  man  she  loves  to  venture  to  his  doom. 
Her  charming  voice,  dying  in  melody, 
Blends  sweetly  with  the  chorus  of  the  birds 
That  still  sing  happily  their  song  of  peace. 


Book   Third — No  Life  in  Unbelief.  87 

Filled  with  contending  thoughts,  poor  Adam  stands, 

And  gazes  in  the  lovely  eyes  of  her 

For  'whose  dear  sake  he  willing! j'  would  die. 

But  shall  he  contravene  the  will  of  God? 

Betray  the  trust  reposed  in  him  by  heaven  % 

Declare  himself  unworthy  of  that  trust  % 

Kenounce  allegiance  to  his  rightful  king  % 

Cast  off  the  crown  of  God's  paternal  love! 

Defy  God's  wrath  %    Incur  the  taint  of  sin  ? 

And  forfeit  hope  of  everlasting  life  f 

Ah  not  so  clearly  Adam  understands 
Tlie  fall  extent  of  Eve's  rash  act  of  sin. 
Or  for  himself  anticipates  the  woe, 
The  shame  and  guilt  of  yielding  now  to  her 
He  only  knows  'tis  wrong  to  disobey, 
And  fears  some  dreadful  evil  must  ensue. 
He  hesitates,  and  Eve  renews  her  plea, 
And  urges  him  to  eat  for  her  dear  sake. 

"  Taste,  Adam  dear,  and  share  my  weal  or  woe. 
Thou  sure  wilt  not  forsake  the  wife  you  love, 
And  leave  her  now  to  bear  the  doom  alone — 
(If  doom  there  be)  for  eating  harmless  fruit — 
Thou  couldst  not  see  me  die  (and  thou  go  free) 
Or  suffer  pain  without  thy  loving  aid. 
Or,  if  my  soul  depart,  thou  coulds't  not  stay 
In  Eden's  bliss,  and  feel  no  pang  of  grief. 
Where  is  the  love  thou  hast  so  fondly  swoin  ? 
And  where  thy  courage  to  endure  for  me  ? ' ' 

These  words,  with  fond  caresses,  and  with  looks 


88  Bionopsis. 

Of  sweet  entreaty  beamiEg  from  bright  eyes, 

That  sometimes  swim  with  tears,  the  while  they 

gazed 
So  pleadingly  in  his,  as  if  to  read 
His  inmost  mind  and  soul,  sweep  all  reserve 
From  Adam's  heart,  and  melt  his  steadfast  will, 
E'en  as  the  sun  dissolves  the  icy  bands 
That  bind  the  rivers  in  the  early  spring. 

He  now  regards  at  last  the  tempting  fruit, 
Held  forth  by  gentle  hands  of  her  he  loves. 

Oh  Heaven  and  Earth  !  Forbid  the  dreadful  crime 
By  which  he  now  casts  off  the  hand  of  God, 
Upholding,  guiding,  loading  him  with  bliss, 
And  takes  of  Satan's  proffered  bait  of  sin  ! 

Too  late  !  alas  !  he  takes  the  fatal  fruit ! 
He  tastes  !  and  Satan's  triumph  is  complete  ! 

Heaven  hears  the  tidings  with  dismay  and  grief, 
And  hollow,  mocking  laughter  rings  through  Hell. 

But  chiefly  earth,  could  she  forsee  the  woe. 
And  dreadful  desolation,  sin  and  crime 
That  must  ensue,  how  would  she  now  lament 
And  clothe  herself  in  sackcloth  black  as  night. 

But  no.    The  birds  still  sing  their  song  of  peace, 
And  nature  smiles,  as  if  man  still  were  blest ! 
And  Adam  smiles !    He  feels  no  inward  pain 
Save  some  remorseful  throes  which  conscience  gives  ; 
But  finds  his  senses  quickened  to  discern 


Book   TJiird — No  Life  hi   Unbelief.  89 

The  good  and  evil,  j-et  unknown  before. 

Yet  little  peace  forbidden  knowledge  brings. 

A  sense  of  shame  creeps  through  his  fallen  soul, 

A  consciousness  of  new  and  strange  desires, 

That  bring  him  more  of  torment  than  of  bliss. 

He  cannot  walk  unchallenged  now  of  wrong, 

Nor  seek  with  joy  his  Maker's  smiling  face, 

Nor  find  his  chief  delight  to  do  his  will. 

Self  has  usurped  his  Sovereign's  rightful  throne, 

And  selfish  joys,  and  fears,  and  noxious  cares 

Xow  take  the  place  of  Innocent  delight. 

And  filial  confidence,  and  childlike  trust. 

He  even  dreads  the  holy  twilight  hour. 

Sweet  hour  of  prayer  that  ends  the  busy  day. 

Wooing  the  weary  soul,  with  influence  sweet, 

To  hold  communion  with  its  father, — God. 

O  sacred  hour,  sweet  link  of  earth  to  heaven  ! 

Thou'rt  surelj^  blessed  of  God,  and  sent  by  hiui 

To  shed  rich  blessings  on  the  waiting  souls, 

Of  those  who  love  him  and  go  forth  to  meet 

His  coming  at  the  holy  evening  tide. 

What  glory  does  thy  waning  light  unfold 

To  wondering  eyes,  in  its  dissolving  hues 

That  tell  of  Heaven,  as  this  world  fades  from  sight, 

The  gathering  gloom  that  vails  the  things  of  earth 

Unfolds  the  glittering  worlds  that  lift  our  thoughts 

To  things  unseen,  "  eternal  in  the  heavens." 

But  Adam  dreads  to  meet  his  injured  Lord ! 
Alas !  how  changed  since  erst  he  longed  to  see 


Qo  Bionopsis. 

The  face  of  him  he  loved,  and  hailed  the  hour 
That  brought  his  highest  bliss ! 

So  sin  corrupts 
The  soul  of  man,  and  spoils  his  purest  joys, 
E'en  as  a  little  taint,  most  wholesome  food. 
Or  as  the  East  wind  blasts  the  tenderest  plants. 
The  highest  privilege  of  holy  souls 
Becomes  an  irksome  task,  a  trial  dread, 
To  those  whose  hearts  are  turned  away  from  God. 

So  Adam  finds.    The  Lord  comes  down  at  eve 
With  richest  blessings  for  expectant  souls. 
For  he  is  able, — more  than  willing  too, — 
To  bless  his  trustful  children  whom  he  loves. 

But  Adam  hastes  to  hide  himself  in  shame  ! 
Ah !     AVho  can  long  conceal  himself  from  God? 
One  may  indeed  awliile  avoid  the  light 
And  blind  himself  to  God's  all  seeing  eye. 
But  vain  the  hope  to  blind  the  eye  of  God, 
Or  God's  omniscience  ever  to  deceive. 

The  voice  of  God  rings  through  his  dark  retreat, 
Startling  his  soul. 

"  O  Adam,  where  art  thou ! " 
O  question  hard,  for  wandering  souls  to  hear, 
And  harder  still  to  answer  well  to  God. 
Yet  happy  he  who  honest  answer  gives. 
And  turns,  at  Heaven's  first  call,  from  ways  of  sin. 
Timely  let  each  th'  important  question  ask 
"  Where  art  thou,  O  my  soul  % " 

A  dweller  here 


Book   Third — No  Life  in   Vjibelief.  91 

In  God's  own  world,  by  God's  great  mercy  spared, 

A  few  short  years  of  mingled  grief  and  joy, 

An  heir  of  woe,  but  candidate  for  Heaven, 

Art  thou  on  pilgrimage,  or  wandering  still  ? 

Art  thou  among  his  foes  or  followers  found  ? 

Where  is  thy  heart?    In  union  sweet  with  God, 

Or  firmly  fixed  on  fleeting  visions  here? 

And  where,  at  last,  will  be  thy  chosen  place, 

At  God's  right  hand,  with  those  that  love  their  Lord, 

Or  on  the  left,  to  hear  the  doom,  "  Depart  % ' ' 

Ah,  with  a  tremor,  Adam  hears  the  call, 
His  guilt  confessed  e'en  by  his  shame  and  fear. 
And  by  his  vain  attempt  to  hide  from  God. 
Even  his  manhood  fails  him  iu  this  hour, 
As  fail  it  must  when  God  appears  to  judge. 
He  fain  would  hide  himself  behind  God's  gift, 
And  blame  the  giver,  and  the  gift  so  dear. 

"  The  woman  tempted  whom  thou  gavest  me ! " 

For  shame,  O  man !    In  vain  thy  mean  excuse ' 
Vain  all  thy  pleas  and  poor  excuses  now. 
The  terrible  but  jUwSt  decree  goes  forth. 
That  dooms  thy  life  to  toil  and  sorrow  here, 
Cursing  the  very  ground  for  sin  so  great. 
And  banishing  thy  soul  from  God's  blest  face. 

What  sorrow  theirs,  so  late  supremely  blest, 
Who  hear  their  doom  from  him  whom  they  adore. 
And  know  their  sentence  just,  without  ajipeal ! 
O  dreadful  fruit  of  sin!  brief  joy !  small  gain  ! 


92  Bionopsis. 

O  woful  joy !     O  gain  most  ruinous ! 
It  costs  theili  Paradise,  their  own  souls'  peace, 
God's  smiling  face,  his  "favor  which  is  life," 
And  "loving  kindness  better  far  than  life ! " 

The  night  descends,  the  quiet  holy  uight, 
That  like  a  benediction  falls  from  heaven, 
When  souls  have  listened  to  the  Master's  word. 
But,  ah,  how  solemn  is  its  coming  now  ! 
O  gathering  gloom  of  time's  most  awful  night 
(When  God  pronounced  the  dreadful  doom  of  sin). 
Save  when  the  day  itself  to  night  was  turned, 
And  God's  own  Son  bore,  by  himself,  the  curse. 

Speechless  and  petrified  with  grief  and  fear 
Our  father  stands,  bearing  with  trembling  limbs. 
The  fainting  form  of  his  beloved  wife. 
Where  shall  he  look  for  help  or  comfort  now? 
His  bursting  heart  must  inly  breathe  tlie  prayer 
His  lips  can  not  yet  utter 

''O  my  God 
F-orgive  thy  servant's  sin  !    My  doom  is  just. 
Yet,  O  my  Father,  in  thy  righteous  wrath 
Eemember  mercy.     O  my  Sovereign,  spare ! 
Slay  not  this  dear  companion  of  my  life ! 
iVIy  God !  my  God  !     Wilt  thou  forsake  thine  own 
Shall  we  no  more  behold  thy  smiling  face ! 
No  more  perceive  thy  blissful  presence  near  ? 
Nor  hear  thy  gentle  voice  in  accents  sweet. 
To  guide  and  counsel,  and  to  soothe  our  feais  % 
O  Father,  if  from  this  dear  Paradise 


Book   Third — No  Life  in   Unbelief.  93 

We  must  go  banished  forth,  yet  doom  us  not 
To  banishment  eternal  from  thy  face  ! 
Let  not  the  Tempter  triumph !  yiekl  us  not 
Into  the  cruel  hands  of  this  thy  foe/" 

The  God  of  mercy  hears  this  earnest  prayer, 
And  mingles  mercy  with  his  cup  of  wrath, 
Declaring  how  the  woman's  seed  shall  bruise 
The  serj)ent's  head,  and  final  victory  gain, 
Though  suffering  greatly  in  the  dreadful  strife. 
But  oh  the  depth  of  meaning  iu  that  word, 
"The  woman's  seed!"  how  can  their  poor  hearts 

guess 
The  infinite  love  that  shares  their  dreadful  woe, 
Sharing  their  very  nature, — undefiled, — 
And  even  condescends  to  bear  their  guilt ! 
All,  all  seems  dark,  and  stern,  and  dreadful  now, 
Nor  can  tliej"  see  their  Father's  loving  face 
Behind  the  dreadful  vail  of  rayless  night, 
Xor  well  discern  or  taste  of  mercy  now. 
Mixed  in  their  cup  of  overflowing  Avoe. 

With  heavy,  heavy  hearts  they  bid  farewell, 
A  sad  and  last  farewell  to  Paradise, — 
Their  happy,  happy  home, — and,  driven  forth 
By  flaming  swords,  which  guard  the  way  of  life, 
They  seek,  amidst  the  gloom  of  deepening  night, 
Some  refuge  in  the  world's  wide  wilderness. 
Some  place  of  safe  retreat,  where  they  may  find 
A  brief  oblivion  from  their  dreadful  grief. 
No  more  they  think  of  beauties,  or  of  bowers. 


94  Bionopsis. 

Adorned  for  every  innocent  delight, 

They  only  seek  some  place  to  hide  their  shamo, 

To  rest  their  weary  limbs  and  aching  heads. 

To  still  the  painful  tumult  of  their  hearts, 

To  lay  aside  their  heavy  load  of  grief, 

To  banish  from  their  minds  distressful  thought, 

And,  for  a  season  e'en  forget  themselves. 

But  oh !  the  darkest  night  can  ne'er  conceal 
The  guilt  and  shame  convicted  souls  must  feel, 
And  sweet  forgetfulness  is  wooed  in  vain 
By  those  whose  very  souls  are  racked  with  pain. 

' '  The  spirit  of  a  man,' '  in  purity, 
And  love  to  God,  "  bears  his  infirmity," 
And  casts  upon  his  Father  every  care : 
But  oh !  "a  wounded  spirit  who  can  bear  % " 

eve's  lament. 
O  weary  heart,  so  sore,  so  sad, 
Canst  thou,  henceforth,  no  more  be  glad  % 
How  can  I  live,  with  hope  laid  low  % 
How  bear,  and  yet  conceal  my  woe  % 

Dear,  happy,  home,  of  pure  delight, 

So  full  of  beauty,  love,  and  light, 

So  full  of  innocence,  and  glee, 

Art  thou,  henceforth,  now  closed  to  me  I 

And  art  thou  closed,  O  Heart  Divine 
Whose  love  was,  late,  so  freely  mine  % 
Must  I,  from  thy  sweet  presence  torn, 
Henceforth  perj^etual  exile  mourn  ? 


Book   Third — No  Life  in   Unbelief.  95 

0  burdened  soul,  weighed  down  with  grief ! 
Where  dwelleth  succor  or  relief  ? 

With  God  so  grieved  ?  now  hid  from  sight? 
Or  him  whose  life  thy  sin  doth  blight .' 

My  mind  is  dazed  !  I  cannot  think  1 

1  seem  to  stand  upon  the  brink 

Of  darkness,  death,  and  deep  despair  : 
But  speak  my  woe?    How  can  I  dare? 

Why  should  I  add  my  sorrows'  weight 
To  his,  who  shares  my  lost  estate. 
And  shares  it  through  his  love  to  me, 
Whose  folly  brought  such  misery  ? 

Why  did  I  heed  the  Tempter's  voice  ? 
Why  make  the  sad  and  fatal  choice, 
When  love,  and  goodness  all  divine, 
Had  made  such  priceless  treasures  mine  % 

Yes  priceless  treasures  ! — Mine  no  more ! 
Joy,  fresh  from  him  whom  I  adore, 
Heaven's  peace,  and  stainless  purity, 
Xow  lost, — to  all  futurity ! 

Yet  hope  still  glimmers  e'en  for  me, 
Hope  in  my  own  posterity, 
Hope  of  a  Promised,  Holy,  Seed, 
For  me  to  conquer, — yet  to  bleed  ! 

Lord  keep  thy  word,  and  speed  the  day  ! 
Oh  may  my  sons  thy  laws  obey  ! 
And  may  they  all  from  me  be  taught 
To  scorn  the  first  disloyal  thought. 


96  Bionopsis. 

Now  from  this  opening,  sad,  of  earthly  woe. 
Turn  we  to  scenes  more  full  of  hope  and  joy. 
Though  mingled,  oft,  with  sorrow,  sin,  and  shame 
Behold,  once  more,  our  happj'^  mother.  Eve 
Eejoicing  in  a  joy  unknown  before. 
O  precious  gift  of  Heaven  !    O  token  dear 
That  all  is  not  yet  wrath, — that  God  still  smiles, 
And  e'en  with  wrath  he  blends  sweet  mercy  still 
The  happy  mother  folds  in  loving  arms, 
Against  her  thankful  heart,  her  first  born  son. 
First  born  of  men,  heir  of  the  universe  ! 
The  pain  and  sorrow  which  his  coming  caused, 
Now  all  forgot,  she  sings  a  song  of  joy. 

''  Eejoice !    A  man  I've  gotten, — (lo  !)  the  Lord !  " 

Does  she  imagine  this  the  promised  seed  % 
And  that  he  is  indeed  Jehovah,  Lord  ?. 

Alas  !  Alas  !     How  sad  her  fond  mistake  ! 
Soon  must  she  find  life's  dreadful  war  with  woe 
Has  just  begun,  the  triumph  yet  far  off, 
For  sin  and  sorrow  still  must  flourish  long, 
And  Satan  still  prevail  on  many  a  field. 
Yet  sweet  the  days  of  innocent  delight, 
While  Cain  was  still  a  child,  and  love  and  hope 
Filled  all  her  heart  with  purest  Mother  joy. 

The  rarest  flower  her  life  has  ever  seen 
Now  blossoms  on  her  breast,  unfolding  fair, 
"With  growing  sweetness  to  her  happy  soul. 
The  eyes  of  blue  that  gaze  into  her  eyes 
So  wond'ringly,  and  yet  with  love  and  trust. 


Book   Third— No  Life  in   Unbelief.  97 

Charm  all  her  heart,  with  fascinating  power, 
The  cooing,  prattling  lips  speak  to  her  ears 
A  language  clear  and  sweet,  and  on  her  heart 
The  tiny  tender  hands  lay  hold,  with  power 
Naught  can  dissolve,  through  changes  great  and  snd. 
Alas !  that  change  so  great  should  ever  be — 
And  that  the  infant  pure  should  bear  the  brand. 
In  after  years,  of  ''  Cain  ! ' '  "  first  murderer  ! " ' 

And  yet  does  not  the  tree  its  own  fruit  bear "? 

For  "  thorns  do  not  bear  figs,''  "nor  thistles  grapes." 

And  souls  perverted  from  the  love  of  God 

Bear  not  the  proper  fruits  of  holiness. 

But  sinful  lusts  and  passions,  unrestrained^ 

Must  yield  the  fruits  of  heinous  sin  and  crime 

Ah  well  it  is  that  man  cannot  forsee 

All  coming  w^oes.     "  Sufficient  to  the  day 

The  ill  thereof"     Nor  should  we  borrow  grief 

From  sad  to-morrows,  spoiling  present  joys, 

Or  doubling  this  day's  trial  all  in  vain. 

Wise  men  forsee  the  ills  that  may  be  shunned, 

And  so,  by  timely  care,  such  ills  avoid. 

All  else  true  wisdom  trusts  to  grace  divine. 

Thus  happy  now  the  family  of  men ! 

For  hope,  sweet  hope,  has  dawned  upon  their  souls 

Of  grace  divine,  surpassing  all  their  thoughts. 

In  some  way  granted  through  their  promised  seed. 

And  joys  e'en  now,  unknown  in  Paradise, 

Come  clustering  to  their  humble  home  without. 

For  babes  appear,  like  visitants  from  heaven, 


98  Bionopsis. 

Enkindling  love,  warm,  tender,  sweet  and  pure. 
Oil  rich  the  homes  where  hearts  are  full  of  love ! 
"Without  it,  poor  and  desolate  indeed  ! 
Though  rich  in  all  things  else  that  gold  can  buy. 

New  graces,  too,  now  blossom  in  the  lives 
Of  those  who  knew  in  bliss  no  sympathy, 
Because  they  knew  no  trial,  pain,  or  woe. 
For  gentle  patience,  sympathetic  grief. 
Thoughtful  solicitude  for  others'  ills, 
And  kind  forbearance,  and  forgiving  grace, 
Strong  fortitude,  and  courage  unappalled 
By  dangers,  or  disasters,  dread  and  dire, 
And,  best  of  all,  self  sacrificing  love, — 
Exotic  graces,  strange  to  Eden's  bowers, 
Begin  to  bear  in  man  their  beauteous  fruits. 
And  Heaven  itself  views,  with  admiring  eyes, 
Graces  so  rare  and  sweet  midst  woe  and  sin. 

Not  far  from  Eden,  Adam  built  his  home 
And  full  in  sight  of  where  the  seraphs  held 
Their  flaming  swords  to  guard  the  holy  gates. 
And  often  through  the  gates  were  glimpses  caught 
Of  him  who  showed  his  glorious  presence  there. 

Thus  constant  kept  in  recollection  sad 

Of  all  their  sins  had  cost, — reviewing  oft 

The  holy  hours  of  pure  supreme  delight 

They  once  enjoyed  in  Eden's  blissful  bowers, 

Where  sinless  as  the  lilies,  and  as  fair. 

They  reigned  supreme  'mong  all  the  works  of  God, 

Reverenced  and  loved  by  all,  as  next  to  God, 


Book   Third — A'o  Life  in  Unbelief.  99 

Or  "  little  lower  than  the  augels  "  pure, 

Eemembering  now  the  greatness  of  their  fall, 

And  seeing  hope  of  all  return  cut  off, 

They  daily  learn  the  useful  lessons  taught. 

The  guilt  of  most  unprofitable  sin, 

And  true  repentence  towards  their  injured  Lord. 

Each  well  remembered  spot  seemed  near  and  dear. 

In  many  a  nook  their  fair  companions  stood. 

Bright  blushing  roses  with  their  open  hearts. 

And  breathing  out  the  fragrance  of  their  love 

At  their  approach,  but  waiting  now  in  vain 

For  their  return ;  and  delicate  and  pale 

The  lilies  of  the  valley  pure  and  sweet, 

Hiding  their  loveliness  in  mossy  glen. 

In  deep  humility,  and  yet  with  joy 

So  meekly  greeting  their  dear  footsteps  turned 

Oft  to  their  lone  retreat  with  happy  love. 

Ah,  lonely  now,  they  listen  never  more 

To  Eve's  sweet  innocent  talk,  so  full  of  praise 

And  hope  and  joy  !  Ah  dear  this  happy  spot ! 

But  dearer  still  those  holiest  resorts 

Where  God, — their  life, — revealed  himself  in  love ! 

All  nature,  in  His  presence,  seemed  more  bright. 

Surcharged  with  joy,  and  luminous  with  smiles. 

The  very  flow'rs  breathed  holy  love  to  God, 

And  all  the  birds  sang  sweetly  to  his  praise. 

But  chiefly  they  who  hailed  the  happy  hour. 

Which  they  might  spend  with  their  belov'd  Lord, 

In  high  communion,  intimate  and  sweet. 

These  precious,  tender  memories  filled  their  souls 


loo  Bionopsis. 

With  strong  emotions,  far  too  deep  for  words, 
Whene'er  their  minds  endured  the  fond  review. 
And  yet  they  oft  desired  to  turn  their  souls 
Towards  Him  whom  still  they  loved,  and  happy  hope 
Was  kindled  in  their  souls  of  sins  forgiven. 
And  treasures  still  in  store  of  grace  divine 
Their  Father's  smiling  face,  tho'  seen  afar, 
Gave  sweet  assurance  of  good  will  to  men, 
Of  true,  and  patient,  and  forgiving  love. 

So  at  the  holy  meditative  hour. 
When  all  the  cares  of  life  were  laid  aside. 
They  still  besought  the  presence  of  their  God, 
And  looked  with  eager  love  to  see  his  face. 

The  humble  booth  which  Adam  called  his  home, 
Was  built  of  interwoven  boughs  and  thatch, 
Well  walled  without  with  turf,  and  lined  Avithin 
With  reeds  and  palm  leaves,  and  adorned  with  gems 
And  precious  ore,  and  curious  stones  and  shells. 
The  floor  was  thickly  strewn  with  clean  white  sand; 
Soft  mossj^  beds  invited  to  repose ; 
And  rustic  wood  supplied  the  furniture. 

Here  clustered  now  the  family  of  man. 
Another  son,  sweet  brother  for  the  first, 
Gentle,  and  good,  and  of  his  brother  fond. 
And  daughters  fair,  now  joined  the  faniilj^  grouj). 
Ringing  with  life  and  mirth,  the  humble  cot 
Grew  daily  dearer  to  the  loving  hearts 
Who  in  this  home  share  mutual  weal  or  woe. 
Richer  by  far  in  treasures  of  the  soul 


Book   TJiird — No  Life  in   I'libclief.  loi 

That  humble  cot  than  many  a  palace  grand, 
Where  splendor  vain  usurps  the  place  of  love. 
The  cottage  door  was  shaded  by  a  porch 
O'er-grown  \vith  vines,  and  looked  toward  Paradise 
'Twas  here  the  family  gathered  morn  and  eve, 
And,  in  the  presence  of  their  gracious  Lord, 
Bowed  down  with  reverence,  holy  love,  and  joy. 
And  poured  forth  all  their  souls  in  prayer   and 
praise: 

Oh  sweet  the  hour  of  prayer. 

When  God  his  face  reveals, 
Wlio  frees  the  soul  from  earthly  care 

And  earthly  sorrow  heals. 

Bound  by  the  sacred  ties 

Of  fondest  family  love, 
Our  happy  souls  together  rise 

Towards  yon  bright  home  above. 

Well  pleased,  our  Father  views 

Our  offering  at  his  throne. 
Nor  can  his  bounteous  heart  refuse 

Our  humble  suit  to  own. 

He  sends  his  holy  Dove 

Our  happy  souls  to  fill 
With  purer,  more  abounding  love, 

Delighting  in  his  will. 

So  sped  the  days.    So  ran  the  circling  months 
And  multiplying  labors  filled  their  lives. 
Increasing  in  the  field  and  in  the  home. 


102  Bio  nop  sis. 

For  toil  was  Adam's  lot,  and  from  his  face, 
Furrowed  with  care,  oft  rolled  the  trickling  drops, 
The  tribute  of  his  strength  adjudged  to  earth, 
Cursed  by  his  sin,  reluctant  now  to  yield 
A  free-will  offering  to  support  his  life. 
But  drops  of  mortal  anguish  filled  the  eyes 
Of  her  who  first  brought  sin  into  the  world, 
In  bringing  also  life,  and  bringing  hope 
Of  him,  who, — victor  over  death  and  sin, — 
Should  bring  eternal  life  at  last  to  man. 

Time  hastened  on,  and  still  the  family  grew. 
Man's  first  born  son  stood  by  his  father's  side 
Or  followed  in  the  field,  with  sturdy  strength. 

But  Abel,  watching  his  increasing  flocks. 
Led  them  in  pastures  green,  by  waters  still. 
And  while  at  noontide,  in  embowering  shade 
They  sought  secure  repose,  with  simple  pipes 
Discoursed  sweet  music,  often  uttering  forth 
The  happy  thoughts  of  grateful  heart  and  mind, 
In  songs  of  praise  and  heavenly  love  and  hoi)e. 
And  yet, — ^not  all  of  heaven  nor  things  divine,- 
His  song  discoursed  of  happy  earthly  love, 
Yet  scarcely  less  divine,  so  aptly  blent 
(In  strains  of  sweetest  melody  and  joy). 
The  love  of  God,  and  of  his  dearest  gift 
To  man  on  earth,  (save  when  he  gave  Himself ) 
The  good  man's  other  self,  yea  more  than  self. 
And  more  than  all  the  teeming  world  besides. 

Behold  the  happy  shepherd  with  his  flock. 


Book   Third — No  Life  in  Unbelief.  103 

His  riches  all  around,  in  sweet  content. 
Xo  sore  impatience,  no  distressing  cares 
Disturb  his  thoughts. 

Yet  why  his  longing  gaze 
Across  the  sunnj^  fields,  toward  yonder  grove ! 
The  scene  is  fair  to  view,  blue  skies  abo\^e, 
Witli  banks  of  summer  clouds,  and,  spread  below, 
Fair  verdant  sloj^es.  adorned  with  autumn  flowers. 
And  gay  with  butterflies  of  varied  hue. 
And  overhead,  among  the  branches  fair, 
Cool  breezes  sigh,  and  sweet  birds  gayly  sing, 
"While  sleepy  criekets  tune  their  lullaby. 
To  soothe  his  soul  to  slee}). 

Yet,  all  alert. 
His  mind  is  far  away,  until,  behold  ! 
Who  is  this  fair  one  coming  o'er  the  lea? 
Ah,  more  than  all  beside,  he  joys  in  her! 
His  heart  leaps  up  to  greet  her,  ere  his  feet, 
Nimble  and  strong,  can  lift  his  outstretched  form 
And  bear  him  swift  to  meet  her  fond  embrace. 

Fairer  than  all  things  else  in  earth  or  skies, 

In  Abel's  eyes  this  beauteous  vision  seems. 

His  sweet  Hadassah,  shining  in  the  sun, 

And  singing  sweetly  witli  a  lute-like  voice. 

Her  simple  garb  hangs  loosely  round  her  form, 

Woven  with  early  art,  from  textures  soft. 

Of  nether  barks,  with  here  and  there  a  gem 

Of  rarest  beauty  sparkling  in  the  light, 

(The  brightest  gem, — herself !)     Her  graceful  form, 

Like  some  fair  Nymph  or  Goddess  from  the  skies, 


I04  Bionopsis. 

Her  golden  curls,  in  rich  profusion  free, 

Her  glowing  cheeks,  and  eyes  whose  liquid  depths 

Bespeak  a  soul  most  pure  and  rich  with  love, 

All,  all  awaken  in  her  Abel's  heart 

A  rapture  of  delight,  that  only  she 

Has  power  to  raise,  and  well  she  knows  her  power. 

And  hears  the  echo  sweet  deep  in  her  soul. 

She  comes  to  bring  refreshment  to  her  spouse 

The  best  refreshment  her  own  lovely  self. 

Awhile  his  thirsty  soul  wells  up  in  love  ; 

And  sweet  discourse,  with  many  a  merry  laugh, 

And  snatches  of  gay  songs  entrance  the  hour. 

Soon,  soon  they  hope  to  build  their  own  dear  home, 

And  plant  another  Paradise  on  earth. 

Their  elder  brother,  with  their  common  aid, 

Had  built  his  own,  far  grander  than  the  iirst. 

With  choicest  stones  of  many  a  varied  hue, 

And  with  his  busy  wife,  thrifty  and  wise, 

Had  gathered  many  comforts  in  its  walls. 

While  all  exulted  in  the  progress  made, 

Eejoicing  with  each  other  day  by  day. 

And  so  the  days  sped  by,  in  i)eace  and  joy. 
But  one  sad  fact  remained  naught  could  dispel. 
The  cloud  which  hovered  dark  in  man's  blue  skies, 
Portentous  of  the  most  tremendous  ill. 
And  growing  larger,  darker,  and  more  dread. 
The  cloud  of  sin  oft  hid  the  face  of  heaven, 
But  brought  no  blessings  to  the  thirsty  earth. 
It  scattered  ashes  and  volcanic  fires, 
Forth  issuing  from  the  awful  pit  of  hell. 


Book   Tliint — No  Life  in   L'tihclicj.  105 

Dai  k  jealousy  bad  fixed  her  poisonous  root 
Deep  in  the  heart  of  Cain,  and,  day  by  day, 
Nourished  and  fed,  to  rank  resentment  grew. 
His  younger  brother's  joy  bred  discontent 
With  his  own  harder  lot. 

"  Why  should  he  toil 
And  sweat  beneath  the  curse,  while  Abel  lay. 
In  slumberous  sloth,  in  shady  nook  and  glen, 
Piping  soft  strains  of  love  and  happiness  ! ' ' 

So  ran  his  tlionghts,  and,  toiling  in  the  field 
At  stubborn  roots,  or  weeds,  or  heavy  stones, 
He  viewed  his  brother's  ease  with  angry  eyes, 
And  heard,  what  seemed  to  him,  his  idle  songs 
With  deep  contempt,  nor  failed  to  si3eak  his  tho'  ts. 

So,  more  than  all,  the  first  born  son  of  man. 
When  days  of  childish  innocence  were  past. 
Gave  deep  concern  to  those  who  gave  him  life 
And  watched  with  loving  care  his  helpless  hours: 
For  wayward,  selfish,  and  perverse  he  seemed, 
With  pride  inflated,  rife  with  j^assions  quick, 
O'ertopping  all  restraint,  with  full  conceit 
In  knowledge  of  his  own,  scorning  to  hear 
The  words  of  wisdom  and  of  love  divine. 

His  arrogance  still  grew  with  manhood's  yeai 
And  of  his  virtues  vain,  he  felt  no  need 
To  seek  forgiveness  through  atoning  blood. 
A  tiller  of  the  soil,  he  proudly  lirought 
Its  fruits  as  proper  offering  to  the  Lord  :— 
But  gained  no  sign  of  favor  from  above. 


1 06  Bionopsis. 

His  Imnible  brother,  Abel,  brought  a  lamb, 
A  sacrificial  offering,  owning  sin, 
With  faith  in  God  and  his  appointed  means. 
This  God  accepted,  and  received  well  pleased. 

'  Twas  placed  upon  an  altar,  rudely  built, 

And  full  in  view  of  Eden's  open  gate, 

With  humble  prayer  that  God  would  own  the  gift, 

When,  lo,  upon  the  bleeding  sacrifice, 

They  saw,  descending,  holy  fire  from  God. 

Th'C  heart  of  Abel  throbbed  with  deep  delight 

To  see  this  glorious  token,  and  to  know 

His  gift  accepted,  and  himself  approved. 

But  why  this  painful  rite,  this  dying  lamb  ? 

How  deemed  this  gentle,  tender  hearted  soul 

A  bloody  offering  grateful  to  his  God  ? 

'Twas  prompted,  as  accex)ted,  by  the  Lord. 

It  taught  the  same  great  truths  presented  now. 

Consistent  all  the  teachings  of  God' s  word, 

From  date  as  ancient  as  the  fall  of  man 

To  that  dread  hour  when  Christ,  on  Calvary 

The  bleeding  "Lamb  of  God,"  purged  all  our  sins 

How  plain  the  solemn  truth,  that  only  blood 

Can  bring  remission  for  the  sins  of  man. 

Well  Abel  knew  the  i)enalty  of  sin. 

And  also  knew  the  promise  of  God's  truth. 

With  humble  penitence  and  filial  trust. 

Claiming  no  right  or  merit  of  his  own, 

He  came,  expectant  of  his  God's  free  grace, 

And  found,  with  joy,  the  blessing  he  had  sought. 


Book   Third — No  Life  in  Unbelief.  \oy 

Oh  blest  is  he, — his  happy  fortune  sure, — 

Who  j)rizes  heaven  above  the  joys  of  earth, 

And  seeking  with  his  soul  its  honors  high, 

Its  recognizing  smile  at  last  obtains. 

No  sacrifice  too  dear,  no  cost  too  great 

To  win.  the  favor  of  Almighty  God, 

Whose  "/ai'or  ZZ/V,"  whose  "love  is  more  them  Hfe.^^ 


He  that  belleveth  not  the  Son  shall  not  see  life;  but  the 
loi'oth  of  God  abideth  on  Mm,    John  III.  36. 


PROEM. 

Before  tliy  tlirone  we  bow, 
O  God  with  reverence  profound, 
While  all  tliy  glorious  hosts  make  heaven  resound 

With,  "  Holy,  Holy,  Holy  Thou." 

Oh  grant  that  we  may  see 
Such  glimpses  of  thy  glorious  grace, 
That,  though  a-while  forbid  to  view  thy  face, 

We  still  may  daily  grow  like  thee. 

Oh  grant  that  we  may  hear 
The  rapturous  anthem  swelling  high. 
And  echoing  through  the  arches  of  the  sky. 

That  we  may  also  joy  and  fear. 

And  show  us  by  thy  word 
How  thou  dost  hate  each  taint  of  sin, 
That  we,  by  purging  all  our  souls  within, 

May  do  thy  will,  O  Lord. 

Thus  witnessing  to  men, 
May  we  thy  purposes  unfold. 
And  teach  them  rightly,  surely  to  behold 

Thiuu's  far  beyond  all  sinful  ken. 

And  while  we  hold  to  view 
Sin's  awful  mysteiy  and  doom, 
O  may  thy  grace  the  darkness  all  illume. 

And  show  thyself  still  good  and  true. 

109 


BOOK  FOURTH. 

Sad  is  tlie  work  of  one  wliose  pen  records 
The  errors  of  his  kindred  and  his  race, 
And,  faithful  to  his  Lord,  must  also  speak 
The  dreadful  doom  that  clings  to  eveiy  sin 
Unwept,  unexpiated,  unforgiven. 
Yet  faithful  most  is  he  e'en  to  his  race, 
Who  faithful  to  his  Lord,  denounces  sin, 
And  sounds  unceasing  notes  of  warning  loud. 

Then  let  us  trace  the  sad  and  downward  course 
Of  human  life  in  unbelief  and  sin. 

We  saw  how  Abel  stood  approved  of  God, 

But  Cain  despised  a  bloody  sacrifice 

As  most  unworthy  of  a  loving  God, 

And  needless  to  atone  for  human  guilr 

Strong  in  his  own  conceit  of  innocence 

He  offered  only  tributes  of  respect, 

Which,  owning  God  as  sovereign,  and  the  source 

Of  every  good,  confessed  no  taint  of  sin. 

But  ah  how  soon  his  sin  stood  all  exposed ! 

Beholding  all  his  offerings  scorned  of  heaven. 

His  fury  rose !  his  angry  countenance  fell ! 

Yet  even  then  his  long  endurjing  Lord, 

With  condescending  gentleness  and  grace, 

Restrained  his  wrath  and  reasoned  thus  with  Cain. 

Ill 


112  Bionopsis. 

"Why  art  thou  wroth?  and  why  tliy  coimtenance 

down  ? 
Had'st  thou  done  well,  thou  should' st  accepted  be. 
If  otherwise,  '  Sin  lieth  at  the  door !'  " 

But  unrepentant  Cain  withdraws  his  feet 
From  God's  paternal  presence,  hot  with  wrath 
Against  his  younger  brother,  thus  preferred, 
God's  favorite  in  worshii)  and  in  work. 

Espying  Abel  in  his  solitude, 
Calmly  reposing  with  his  well-fed  flocks, 
Just  on  the  margin  of  his  own  tilled  fields, 
He  hails  him  harshly  with  a  stern  lebuke. 

Poor  Abel,  wondering  at  his  brother's  wrath. 
Gently  reproves  him  for  his  grievous  sin, 
But  he  who  would  not  listen  to  his  God 
Will  brook  no  preaching  from  his  rival  now. 
A  heavy  jagged  stick  is  in  his  hand 
And  fury  in  his  heart,  inflamed  of  hell. 
(For  watchful  Satan  has  not  missed  his  chance. 
And  he  w^ho  serves  not  God  is  Satan's  slave.) 
So  lifting  quick  his  hand,  with  furious  force 
He  smites  his  brother's  forehead  ! 

Dreadful  sight ! 
The  blood  and  brains  gush  from  the  broken  skull ! 
With  one  convulsive  groan,  clasping  his  hands 
In  dying  agony,  the  brother  falls. 
And  in  a  few  brief  seconds  breathes  his  last. 

With  sudden  horror  Cain  regards  his  work. 


Book  Fourth — TJic  Jxci'^n  of  Death  Begun.         113 

The  first  wlio  soes  tlio  dreiidfiil  doom  of  sin, 

"  The  soul  tliat  sinuetli,  it  shall  die/' 

Aud  wrought  by  his  own  hand  !  It  first  befalls 
The  one  most  innocent,  most  loved  of  heaven. 
Then  if  the  one  belov'd  of  heaven  must  die. 
What  fate  awaits  perverse  rebellious  souls'? 
A  moment  Cain  beholds  the  dreadful  sight, 
Then  turns  and  flees,  pursued  by  his  own  thoughts, 
Starting  at  every  sound  with  guilty  fear. 
Ah  dreadful  thoughts,  when  conscience,  now  awake. 
Lashes  the  spirit  with  its  scorpion  stings. 
Yet  pride  and  wrath  are  not  yet  dead  in  Cain. 
Rebellious  still,  he  fain  would  hide  his  guilt, 
Nor  yet  confess,  nor  yet  forsake  his  sin. 

God's  dreadful  voice  sounds  forth, 

"  What  hast  thou  done  ? 
Where  is  thy  brother  Abel,  now,  O  Cain  % " 

"  Am  I  my  brother's  keeper  %  "  Cain  replies 
*'I  know  not  where." 

Ah  vain  the  empty  hope 
To  hide  the  guilt  of  murder  from  the  eyes 
Of  him  who  searches  e'en  the  hearts  of  men. 

"  O  wretched  Cain !  the  voice  cries,  from  the  ground 
Of  Abel's  blood  !  thy  murdered  brothei's  blood  ! 
And  now  accursed  art  thou  e'en  from  the  earth, 
Already  cursed  from  heaven !  The  open  moutb 
Of  earth,  which  drank  the  blood,  cries  out  aloud 
For  vengeance  dire  on  tlie  remorseless  hand 


I T  4  Bkmopsis. 

Which  did  the  awful  deed.    She  shall  not  yield 

heuceforth, 
To  thy  strong  hand  her  strength,  nor  furnish  home 
Secure  and  happy  for  thy  curs'd  head. 
A  fugitive,  and  wretched  vagabond  ! 
A  few  years  longer  thou  may'st  linger  here. 
Thy  very  name  despised  henceforth  on  earth !  " 

Appalled  and  stupefied,  the  wretched  man 
Thus  hears  his  doom. 

But  does  he  now  relent  1 
Most  humbly  does  he  sue  for  pardoning  grace 
With  agonizing  penitence  and  shame? 
Alas !   Alas !  his  heart,  rebellious  still, 
Still  hard  and  proud,  complains  of  undue  wratli 
As  if  God's  justice  were  indeed  unjust. 

"  My  punishment  is  far  too  great  to  bear. 
Thou  hast  O  God  decreed  my  banishment 
From  thee,  and  home,  and  from  my  fellow-men. 
Cast  out  of  God  and  man,  bereft  of  hope, 
A  fugitive  in  all  this  wretched  world, 
Despised  by  all,  in  all  the  coming  years, 
Cast  from  thy  sheltering  care  I  soon  must  die 
By  teeth  of  beast  or  hand  of  angry  man." 

And  art  thou  still,  O  Cain,  so  loath  to  die  % 
What  hope  or  blessing  now  has  life  for  thee  % 
Since  misery,  guilt  and  shame  must  be  thy  lot 
Why  drag  thy  dreadful  load  to  weary  age? 
O  guilty  conscience !,  tis  thine  awful  power 


Book  Fourtli — Till-  Re/i^n  of  Death   Begun.         T15 

That  makes  him  start  aud  shrink  at  thought  of 
death. 

O  death,  last  enemy,  how  dreadful  thou 
To  those  who  die  unreconciled  to  God ! 
O  shuddering  horror  !  grinning  skeleton  ! 
Thy  sightless  sockets  fright  the  sinful  soul ! 
With  fear  we  fly  thy  terrible  embrace. 
E'en  offering  relief  from  earthly  woe. 

But  when  God  sends  to  call  his  children  home, 
A  smiling  messenger  of  light  appears. 
Enrobed  in  righteousness,  well  shod  with  peace. 
Begirt  with  comfort,  crowned  with  hope  and  joy. 
And  breathing  love,  the  very  breath  of  heaven. 
The  final  struggle  with  the  enemy 
May  oft  be  sliarp  and  full  of  grief  and  pain, 
But  victory  is  near  and  sure  to  all 
Who  love  their  King  and  on  his  truth  rely. 
O  glorious  victory !    O  triumph  sweet ! 
When  lo  the  King  himself  appears  revealed 
To  welcome  home  with  loving  smiles  his  own. 

Yet  dreadful  still,  e'en  with  thy  sting  removed, 

Thou  progeny  aud  punishment  of  sin. 

Who  fillest  happy  homes  with  grief  and  gloom. 

How  awful  art  thou.  Death !  most  awful  too 

When  least  expected,  bringing  no  relief 

From  grievious  sickness  or  trom  weary  age ; 

But  breaking  in  upon  a  happy  life. 

And  stunning  loving  hearts  with  speechless  woe. 


ii6  Bionopsis. 

At  noon-tide  high,  Hadassab  seeks  her  spouse, 
With  happy  footsteps  tripping  o'er  the  fields ; 
But  Oh  what  sorrow  waits  her  gentle  heart ! 
No  musical  response  repeats  her  song, 
But  only  empty  echo  answers  back. 

The  sheep  !  why  stand  they  at  the  noontide  hour  % 

And  why  so  scattered,  wildered,  and  distressed  ! 

And  why  with  piteous  bl eatings  do  they  run 

To  meet  her  trembling  steps  ?  Alas  what  ill 

Do  these  strange  signs  portend?  What  coming  woel 

She  hastens  on  with  agitated  heart. 

But  Oh  her  Abel !  There  he  lies,  outstretched 

In  gory  death  !  with  staring  stony  eyes ! 

''  O  Abel  !  speak  ! "  she  cries,  "  what  dreadful  fall 
Has  hurt  thee  %  why  so  stark  and  still !  Oh  speak  ! 
Dost  thou  not  hear  thine  own  Hadassali's  voice?  " 
She  stoops  to  touch  him.     Horror  fills  her  soul ! 
Keen  anguish !  wild  dismay  !  Then  all  is  lost ! 
And  blackness  of  deep  darkness  blots  out  all ! 

But  later  in  the  day  she  wakes  again. 
''  Was  it  a  horrid  dream?  Then  why  wake  here? 
And  why  this  dreadful  aching  at  my  heart?" 
Why  stand  the  sheep  around  her,  gazing  sad 
Upon  her  prostrate  form  ? 

Ah,  now  she  knows 
The  dreadful  truth  !  My  A.bel  is  no  more ! 
And  I !     Oh  why  must  I  now  linger  here 
Dissevered  from  my  love  ?  Why  must  my  heart 


Book  Fourth — The  Reign  of  Death  Hegun.  117 

Be  rent  from  out  my  life  %  why  must  my  sun 
Be  blotted  from  my  skies? " 

Alas!  Alas! 
She  scarcely  dares  to  turn  her  shrinking  eyes 
Where  Abel  lies,  so  dreadful,  white,  and  cold, 
Covered  with  clotted  gore  and  oozing  brains. 
Yet  tenderly,  oh  tenderly,  she  lifts 
The  strengthless  hand,  and  feels  the  pulseless  heart. 
Oh  hand  so  gentle  !  Oh  dear  heart  so  true  ! 
Then  with  a  wail  of  agonizing  grief. 
She  sinks  again  unconscious  on  his  breast. 

But  what  of  Cain  %  does  he  not  suffer  too  ? 
Ah!  blighted  still  more  utterly  his  life ! 
Cissevered  from  his  Lord  hj  his  own  hand 
And  by  his  stubborn  will,  his  sun  of  hope 
Is  blotted  out ;  and,  desolate  indeed, 
His  spirit  wanders  forth  forevermore  ! 

Unhappy  child  of  wrath !  thy  wrath  indulged 

Becomes  thy  master,  and  thy  portion  too  ! 

O  wretched  Cain  !  sent  from  God's  presence,  marked 

With  an  eternal  brand  of  infamy. 

Thou  living  monument  of  righteous  wrath 

So  justly  due  thy  sin,  the  greatest  sin 

Against  the  greatest  law,  the  law  of  love ! 

How  blest  are  they,  who  in  their  foreheads  bear, 

Or  written  in  their  inmost  hearts  of  love, 

The  sacred  name  of  God !  but  oh  how  dread 

The  mark  of  Cain,  the  brand  of  one  disowned 

Of  God  and  man,  preserved  fi-om  sadden  death 

To  wear  out  long  on  earth  thv  dreadful  doom! 


1 1 8  Bionopsis. 

Yet  mercy  gleams  in  this,  for  hopeless  woe 
Awaits  all  banished  souls  in  future  worlds. 

But  Cain  returns  to  his  devoted  wife. 

Will  she  disown  him  *?  will  she  hate  him  now  .' 

With  anxious  gaze  she  marks  his  disarray, 
His  wild,  fierce  looks,  and  hesitating  steps. 
But  Cain  has  careful  been  to  pause  and  cleanse- 
His  bloody  hands  and  garments,  not  to  fright 
The  only  one  whose  love  he  dares  to  trust. 
And  so  he  comes,  and  gently  as  he  may, 
He  breaks  the  dreadful  news. 

Her  fond  heart  sinks 
With  grief  sincere  she  mourns  her  brother's  loss. 
And  trembles  for  her  husband  even  more. 
She  dreads  lest  God's  fierce  wrath  should  smite  bi;n 

dead. 
But  Cain  lifts  up  his  shaggy  locks,  and  shows 
The  startling  mark  of  sevenfold  vengeance  pledged 
'Gainst  all  who  dare,  unwarranted  of  heaven, 
To  interrupt  or  execute  God's  wrath. 
Not  fully  does  he  own  his  dreadful  crime. 
More  ready  to  extenuate  his  guilt, 
Speaking  of  undue  harshness  towards  himself. 
And  undue  favor  towards  God's  chosen  one: 
But  shows  that  they  must  now  God's  presence  flee. 
And  seek  some  refuge  from  Jus  righteous  wrath. 

Ah  blest  the  soul  whose  refuge  is  in  God ! 
Who  from  him  flies,  what  refuge  can  he  find ! 


■  Book  Fourth — The  Reign  of  Death  Begun.         119 

Poor  Esah  hears  it  all  with  deep  dismay, 
Scarce  daring  e'en  to  lift  her  heart  towards  God. 
Poor  woman  !  art  thou  also  doomed  to  bear 
Thy  husband's  sin,  and  suffer  banishment 
From  home  and  friends,  perhaps  from  God  at  last  % 

W\  strong-  and  dangerous  too  the  bonds  of  love 
That  hinder  souls  from  finding  God  and  heaven  ! 

Come  then,  Hadassah,  view  a  deeper  woe 
Than  even  thine,  and  hush  thy  sad  complaint. 
Thy  sun,  though  hidden  for  a  winter's  night, 
Shall  shine  serene  again ;  thy  sorrowing  heart. 
Though  sundered  from  its  earthly  love  awhile, 
More  strongly  drawn  towards  heaven,  shall  there 

renew 
Those  bonds  so  sweet  and  dear  thou  now  dost  mourn. 
But  sad  the  lot  of  one  whose  love  is  spared 
A  few  short  years  to  sink  in  endless  woe. 
And  whose  distinction  'tis  while  lingering  here, 
To  found  a  race  apostatized  from  God  ! 

The  sad  news  travels.     How,  we  have  not  heard, 
For  who  can  tell  how  bad  new^s  flies  apace  % 
And  Adam  and  his  mourning  family  bend, 
With  anguish  and  amazment,  o'er  the  forms 
Of  murdered  Abel  and  his  fainting  spouse. 
Their  souls  are  stupefied  and  dazed  with  fear. 
Their  grief,  too  deep  for  words,  lies  like  a  weight 
Upon  theij-  hearts.     They  know  not  what  to  do 
Nor  where  to  turn ;  with  horror  paralyzed, 
They  can  but  gi'oan  unutterable  grief. 


1 20  Bionopsis. 

The  sheep  are  scattered,  save  the  boldest  few, 

Who  timidly  approach  to  see  the  end. 

O  smitten  shepherd,  and  O  scattered  flock  ! 

Unconsciously  ye  picture  forth  a  scene 

Far  more  momentous  in  the  book  of  time, 

When  lo!  the  smitten  Shepherd,  God's  dear  Son  ! 

The  scattered  sheep,  his  chosen  faithful  ones  ! 

At  length  Hadassah  feebly  lifts  her  head, 

And  with  a  moaning  grief  too  deep  for  tears. 

Entreats  them  to  call  back  his  precious  soul. 

Alas !  how  fruitless  human  efforts  prove 

To  break  the  seal  where  death  has  claimed  his  own! 

Then,  "Oh,"  she  cries  "is  this  the  dread  result 

Of  sacrifice  accepted  by  his  God  ! 

Is  this  the  fruit  of  piety  and  truth? 

Is  this  the  issue  of  a  holy  life "? 

Does  God  reward  true  service  thus  with  death  ?" 

But  Adam  grieving  e'en  with  deeper  grief, 
Since  hers  was  yet  devoid  of  guiPy  pangs, 
Exclaims, 

"Nay  !  Nay  !  My  child !  reproach  not  God! 
His  ways  are  just  and  wise.     'Tis  we  who  sin 
And  charge  him  foolishly.     But  could  we  see 
With  eyes  far  reaching  to  the  end  of  time. 
As  God  beholds  it  all,  we  sure  would  own 
His  judgments  good  and  merciful,  as  just. 
Alas,  my  child,  we  now  behold  the  doom, 
Fulfilled  at  last,  of  our  first  grievous  sin ! 
How  dreadful !  Oh  how  awful  now  it  seems! 


Book  Fourth — The  Reign  of  Death  Begun.         121 

"And  yet  bow  patient  my  loug-suflFeriug  Lord. 
The  stroke  how  long  delayed  !  and  even  now 
What  mercy  softens  e'  en  this  dreadfnl  blow  ! 
"We  know  the  dear  one  lives.     It  is  not  true 
That  God  doth  thus  reward  true  piety: 
"We  know  the  love  divine  that  shed  its  light 
O'er  Abel's  holy  life.     "We  saw  the  joy 
That  filled  his  soul  when  God  received  his  gift 
And  though  we  cannot  fully  understand 
The  sacred  rite,  it  surely  tells  of  good 
To  sinful  dying  man,  and  that,  through  death, 
"We  still  may  find  the  way,  once  more,  to  life. " 

"But  where  is  Cain "?  doth  he  not  also  grieve?" 

"Alas!  Alas  !  my  children,  'tis  this  thought 
That  rends  my  spirit  with  the  sharpest  grief. 
Oh  where  is  Cain ! 

Oh  would  I  knew  as  well 
His  sins  forgiven,  his  soul  prepared  for  heaven, 
As  now  I  know  that  Abel  dwells  with  God. 
*  Oh  where  is  Abel  % '  grieves  me  not  to  ask  ! 
But  where  is  Cain !    It  matters  little  where 
In  all  the  earth,  (though  now  a  fugitive) 
But,  banished  from  his  God,  where  roams  his  heart  ? 
And  where  shall  dwell  his  restless  soul  at  last  % 
Ah  me  !     His  bitter  spirit  grieved  me  oft : 
And  now  I  fear,  with  proofs  I  cannot  shun, 
And — O  my  soul — with  grief  too  keen  to  bear. 
That  Cain's  own  hand  hath  done  this  dreadful  deed  !" 

'T-  'if'  y^  >^  >^  "^ 


122  Bionopsis. 

But  why  x)ursiie  this  tale  of  grief  and  woe 
Thus  early  sprung  from  selfishness  and  sin  % 
Maj'  we  the  lesson  learn,  the  sin  to  shun, 
And  find  in  God,  our  Saviour,  healing  balm 
For  woe,  and  full  salvation  for  our  souls 
O'er  death,  and  victory  at  last  o'er  sin. 

But  how  doth  Heaven  regard  this  heinous  crime? 
Not  ignorant  was  Heaven  of  earthly  news. 
No  need  of  telegraph,  or  human  art. 
" Before  they  were  brought  forth"  God's  word  de- 
clared 
The  strange  events  of  time,  and  wondering  hearts 
Eeceived  and  pondered  each  mysterious  fact. 
And  questioned  how  would  end  the  devious  course 
Of  fallen  man,  still  wandering  far  from  God. 

How  could  it  end,  save  in  abyss  of  woe? 
Could  Arctic  voy'gers  leave  the  sunny  realms 
Of  life-sustaiuing-heat,  and  vainly  seek 
To  win  the  barren  pole,  where  earth  revolves 
In  emptiness  and  gloom,  and  liope  to  find 
Some  other  spring  of  life  I  or  hope  to  shun 
(Except  by  prompt  return)  the  sure  approach 
Of  death,  enfolding  in  his  icy  arms 
Of  dreadful  cold,  the  bravest,  stoutest  hearts  ? 
As  surely  vain  the  hope  of  every  soul 
That  wanders  from  its  God  in  ways  of  sin. 

But  how  correct  the  wrong?  How  save  the  race? 
How  stop  at  least  the  vast  increase  of  souls 
Just  born  to  blossom  foi-  eternal  death? 


Book  FoiirtJi — TJie  Reign  of  Death  Begun,         123 

No  need  has  God  Omniscient  to  consult 
His  angels  what  to  do,  or  from  their  votes 
To  gather  wisdom  for  liis  guidance  now. 
But  He,  the  great  Triune  who  counsel  held, 
And  said  "  Let  us,"  "in  our  own  image"  now 
Make  man,  no  doubt  agreed  in  counsel  wise 
First  to  redeem,  and  then  to  uew-create, 
And  save  at  last  the  chosen  sons  of  God. 

Yet,  angels,  unforbid,  '^  desire  to  look" 
Deep  in  the  awful  myst'ry  of  God's  plans. 
And  many  a  counsel  held  with  wondering  hearts 
Concerning  things  to  come  yet  unrevealed. 

Thus,  looking  from  the  battlements  of  heaven 
Upon  the  dreadful  drama,  whose  first  scenes 
Were  now  unrolled  to  view,  a  thoughtful  group 
Conversed,  one  day,  of  such  strange  mysteries. 

"  Oh  why,  my  comrades  dear,  does  God  permit 

This  awful  tragedy  of  sin  and  woe? '' 

Thus  spoke  La-Mah,  youngest  of  angels  fair. 

Him  Ariel  answered 

"  Should  the  Lord  destroy  % 
With  sudden  vengeance  sweep  the  race  away, 
And  blast,  with  everlasting  death,  the  work, 
So  well  begun,  though  now  so  greatly  marred  ? 
Ah !  then  might  Satan  triumph,  and  proclaim 
The  Lord's  defeat,  to  all  the  hosts  of  hell. 
No,  we  are  confident,  though  now  so  dark 
Seems  all  the  outlook,  God  will  surely  bring 


124  Bionopsis. 

More  glorious  wonders  of  his  truth  and  grace, 
E'en  from  the  folly,  seeming  now  to  reign; 
And  precious  fruits  of  love,  and  praise,  and  joy, 
Shall  then  abound  in  pure  and  happy  hearts." 

The  other,  pressing  still  his  question  deep, 

"  But  would  not  greater  sin  and  deeper  woe 

To  still  increasing  multitudes  be  spared  ? 

Surely  the  Lord  of  love  takes  no  delight 

I II  suffering  or  in  sin,  nor  plants  a  tree 

TJuit  must  bear  evil  fruit  forevermore. 

If  planted  otherwise,  why  not  arrest 

Its  hideous  growth,  and  cut  it  to  the  ground  %  " 

Again  said  Ariel, 

"  God  is  great  and  wise, 
And  from  the  evil  able  to  bring  good. 
He  cuts  not  down  the  tree  till  all  its  wort  li 
Is  fully  proved,  and  all  its  good  is  gleaned. 
What  if  a  multitude  of  germs  decay 
And  come  to  naught,  or  half-ripe  fruit  fall  off, 
Or  even  fully  ripe  be  spoiled  with  worms, 
Will  he  not  spare  the  tree  if  some  good  fruit, 
A  fair  proportion  still,  be  found  therein  % " 

La-Mah  replied, 

"But  Human  souls,  endowed 
With  faculties  divine,  are  more  than  fruit. 
And,  though  defaced  with  sins,  have  viitues  fair. 
And  seem  too  precious  lightly  to  destroy." 


Boflk  FoitrtJi — TJif  Reign  of  DcatJi  Begun.         125 

Then  Ariel  answered, 

''  Theirs  the  facal  choice; 
And  sons  of  men,  who  might  be  heirs  of  God, 
But  live  no  life  divine,  nor  chiefly  choose 
The  life  eternal,  and  the  love  of  God, 
But  choose  the  life  of  creatures  born  to  die, 
Though  seeming  fair  as  sunset  in  their  lives. 
Shall  fade  as  soon,  unvalued  more  in  heaven. 
The  very  brutes  have  lovely  traits,  but  lo, 
What  countless  hordes  in  coming  years  must  die, 
With  neither  hope  nor  promise  sweet  of  heaven, — 
Unpitied  too, — to  serve  the  need  of  man. 
Could  God  not  raise  up  children  from  the  stones? 
Or  could  he  not  evolve  them  from  the  beasts  ? 
Is  man  who  loves  not  God,  of  greater  worth 
Than  brutes  who  love  not,  since  they  know  him  not? 
The  soul  of  man  most  precious  is  indeed 
If  now,  or  yet  to  be,  a  son  of  God. 
And  Oh  how  precious,  angels  could  not  tell. 
The  soul  new-born  a  son  and  heir  of  God, 
And  growing  in  his  likeness  day  by  day, 
Is  precious  as  the  "apple  of  his  eye." 
All  others  are  as  chaff  before  the  wind, 
Lifeless  and  worthless,  only  fit  for  fire." 

La  Mah  now  urged  his  question  once  again, 

'•But  cannot  God  fore-see  the  ruin  dire 
Of  those  who  finallj'  reject  his  grace? 
Is't  needful  then  to  bring  them  into  life 
Merely  as  heirs  of  everlasting  death  % 


126  nionopsis. 

The  animals  that  die  in  countless  hordes 
Here  end  their  being.     What  of  human  woe  %  " 

"Ah  brother"  ans\Yered  Ariel,  "  Wiiy  forbid 

Probation,  or  e'en  life,  save  to  the  souls 

To  bliss  and  goodness  fore-ordained  ?    But  pause 

Behold  the  facts !  why  theorize  in  vain  % 

Enough  for  us  to  view  the  present  truth, 

And  learn  God's  purpose  from  his  spoken  word. 

'Tishard  to  think  how  future  worlds  can  be 

Where  souls  may  dwell  devoid  of  love  to  God, 

And  dragging  on,  from  age  to  weary  age, 

A  life  of  conscious  mis'ry  and  despair. 

But  will  this  differ  from  the  present  fact  ? 

Behold  the  wretched  hosts  of  Satan  now  ! 

How  lost  to  God  and  hope !     Did  God  create 

The  sin  that  made  them  so  ?     Did  God  delight 

In  all  their  wickedness,  in  all  their  woe  ? 

How  sprang  they  into  life?    God  made  them  good, 

But  free  to  choose  the  bad  (their  dreadful  choice) 

Their  choice  and  portion  now,  and  ever  more  ! 

Shall  we  predict  this  cannot  be  with  man  ? 

But  say  not  then,  dear  brother,  God  hath  erred 

Or  gave  men  life  merely  as  heirs  of  death. 

Not  willing  He  that  any  die  in  sin, 

But  that  they  all  might  turn,  repent  and  live. 

Yet  still  La  Mah  pursued  his  painful  theme. 

"  Justice  might  now  demand  eternal  death 

Of  him  who  first  transgressed,  and  show,  to  worlds 

Yet  uncreate,  the  righteous  doom  of  sin. 


Book  Fourth — The  Reign  of  Death  Begun.         127 

But  why  this  host  of  victims  now  fore -doomed  % 
Why  multiply  poor  wretched  souls  for  woe  ? 
Why  call  them  into  being  %  why  create 
K'ew  candidates  for  Satan's  empire  dark, 
New  trophies  and  new  subjects  for  the  foe?  '' 

Then  Ariel, 

"  Secret  things  belong  to  God; 
The  whj'S  and  wherefores  of  his  righteons  work 
Or  final  purposes  we  know  not  yet. 
Enough  that  he,  supremely  wise  and  good, 
'The  judge  of  all  the  earth'  will  do  the  right. 
And  triumph  over  wrong  :     The  promised  seed 
'Shall  bruise  the  serpent's  head'  and  save  his  own ; 
For  none  can  i)luck  them  from  his  Father's  hand. 
No  victory  can  Satan  ever  gain. 
Souls  added  to  his  empire  bring  new  woe. 
And  even  self-doomed  souls  may  serve  some  end 
In  God's  great  plan,  and  even  by  their  wrath 
Against  his  cause  his  righteous  word  fulfill. 
We  said  "  the  chaff  is  only  fit  to  burn." 
Yet  even  chaff  is  useful  while  it  serves 
To  keep  the  grain  so  precious  to  the  Lord. 
For  useful  wheat  he  spares  the  useless  tares 
Until  the  gathering  of  the  '  harvest  home.' 
The  doom  is  just,  '  the  soul  that  sins  shall  die.' 
And  if  'tis  just  for  one  'tis  just  for  all. 
But  needless  suffering  God  Mill  not  impose 
Nor  suffer  souls  to  multiply  for  woe. 
But  were  the  whole  world  doomed  to  endless  woe, — 
Attend,  dear  brother,  ponder  well  this  thought, — 


1 28  Bioiiflpsis. 

Wliat  were  her  cliildreii  to  (lie  countless  hosts 

Of  God's  vast  universe'?     A  single  grain 

Counted  against  a  liandliil  fioni  the  beach? 

Nay ! — counted  against  the  countless  sands  of  earth 

And  what  her  week  (each  day  a  thousand  years), 

Compared  to  all  eternity  to  come  ? 

Sum  up  the  whole  and  let  the  lesson  stand 

For  all  the  ages  and  foi'  all  the  worlds  ! 

How  useful  and  how  merciful  the  doom, 

If  henceforth  and  forevermore  it  saves 

All  future  worlds  from  sin,  x)revents  their  fall, 

And  thus  prevents  the  wreck  of  countless  worlds, 

Made  heirs  henceforth  of  God's  amazing  grace, 

And  in  the  fnllness  of  all  coming  time 

Gathered  at  last  throughout  all  heaven  in  one! '' 

Once  more  LaMah  a  final  question  asked  : 

''Alas  my  brother,  whence  did  sin  arise? 
How  came  such  evil  in  the  realms  of  God  ? " 

"Ah  now  "  said  Ariel,  thou  dost  ask  what  none 
But  God  can  answer  yet.     We  only  know 
It  now  exists;  and  those  who  evil  choose, 
Cut  loose  from  God,  bring  evil  on  their  souls 
Forbid  all  title  to  eternal  life, 
(Since  life,  true  life,  is  only  found  in  God) 
And  find  their  portion  in  eternal  death." 

The  loages  of  sin  is  death.     Eom.  VI.  23. 


PROEM. 

Peace  be  to  those  who  trust  the  Lord 

And  all  his  words  obey. 
Obedieuce  briugs  its  own  reward 

To  chikUeu  of  the  day. 

Thy  words,  O  Lord,  are  true  and  right, 

May  all  their  virtue  know. 
And  learu  the  joys  and  deep  delight 

That  from  thy  precepts  flow. 

Thy  bounty  grants  our  daily  food. 

Thy  care  preserves  from  harm, 
Thou  shieldest  all  the  true  and  good, 

With  thy  protecting  arm. 

But  richer,  dearer  gifts  are  given 

Than  food  or  earthy  pelf. 
To  those  who  seek  thy  grace  from  heaven, 

And  love  thee  for  thyself. 

The  very  ills  that  now  annoy, 

Oft  filling  us  with  woe. 
At  last  shall  bring  us  greater  joy. 

And  thy  great  goodness  show. 

No  needful  good  wilt  thou  deny 

To  those  who  seek  thine  aid. 
The  men  who  on  thy  truth  rely 

Shall  never  be  betrayed. 

9  131 


132  Proem. 

Goodness  and  mercy  follow  those 
Who  follow  grace  and  peace, 

And  those  who  in  thy  truth  repose 
Shall  find  thy  grace  increase. 

O  may  thine  arms  our  souls  embrace 

"With  everlasting  love, 
Sustain  us  through  our  earthly  race 

And  welcome  us  above. 


BOOK  FIFTH. 

With  musings  solitary,  yet  not  sad, 
We  sit  and  gaze  upon  the  far  off  worlds 
That  through  the  sable  veil  of  widowed  night, 
Gaze  back  with  gentle  eyes,  ui)on  our  own. 
What  wonders  they  might  tell  of  power  divine^ 
Aud  wisdom  ''  infinite,  unsearchable, 
And  past  our  finding  out,' '  and  goodness  too, 
Which  blest  eternity  may  yet  unfold. 
We  long  to  visit  those  mysterious  heights, 
To  view  the  customs  strange  of  other  worlds, 
Aud  converse  hold  with  their  inhabitants. 
This  now  denied,  we  yet  may  gather  much 
Of  knowledge,  by  the  aid  of  human  art, 
Most  pleasant  and  most  profitable  too, 
To  lift  the  thoughts  above  this  narrow  earth, 
T'  enlarge  the  mind  and  purify  the  heart. 

But  while  we  sojourn  here,  this  present  world 
Demands  our  service  and  our  study  too, 
With  treasured  lore  of  ages  of  the  past. 
The  present  hour  lays  momentary  claim 
To  thought  aud  action,  while  the  future  stands 
Awaiting  our  approach  to  grasp  our  souls 
Prepared  or  unprepared,  to  lead  us  on. 
With  gentle  power  no  mortal  niay  resist. 
But  still  'tis  true  the  past  demands  our  thought. 
And  from  her  stores,  true  wisdom  may  be  won 

133 


134  Bioiopsis. 

To  serve  our  present  needs,  and  so  to  guide 
Our  souls  in  safety  o'er  time's  future  seas. 
To  cross  indeed  the  waste  of  buried  years, 
Swept  by  oblivion's  tides  of  ages  past, 
Exceeds  our  power.    As  well  attempt  to  scale 
Yon  heavenly  heights,  and  visit  other  worlds. 

Yet  still  unsatisfied  to  gather  up 

The  scattered  fragments  of  the  wrecks  of  time. 

The  silent  records  of  antiquity, 

We  long  to  view  the  men  who  lived  and  breathed 

In  years  gone  by,  as  we  are  living  now. 

And  as  we  sit  and  muse,  our  drowsy  soul, 

Insensibly  released  from  every  bond, 

That  bound  us  to  the  present  place  or  time. 

Forsaking  all  things  seen  by  fleshly  eyes. 

Beholds,  without  amazement,  scenes  unrolled 

Of  ages  past,  it  most  desired  to  see. 

Was  it  some  magic  that  o'erpowered  the  sense  ! 

And  gave  to  unreal  things  reality, 

In  our  own  eyes  alone  % 

Unconscious  borne. 
Through  the  dim  portals  of  the  realm  of  dreams, 
And,  marking  no  transition  from  the  things 
Of  sense,  to  things  of  fancy,  pass  we  hence 
From  living  scenes,  that  soon  shall  seem  to  us 
Like  fleeting  visions  gone,  to  re-enact 
(As  real  to  us)  things  once  realities. 
Now  numbered  with  the  visions  of  the  past ! 
Sweet  nature's  magic  !  how  it  charms  the  sense ! 


Book  Fifth — The  Prognss  oj  Lift'.  135 

How  wonderful  its  power  !     Oft  to  delude, 
Yet  sometimes  too,  to  warn,  instruct,  and  bless. 

Above  the  turmoil  of  the  crowded  street, 
"Where  flow  contending  tides  of  human  life, 
Where  pleasure,  wealth,  and  fashion  vie,  with  toii 
And  busy  care,  to  reach  their  various  ends, 
Where  splendor  rolls  in  equipage  of  gold, 
Near  prison  vans,  and  jostling  vehicles 
Go  rumbling  o'er  the  pave,  with  ponderous  loads 
Of  earthly  goods,  on  which  fair  hopes  are  fixed. 
Or  freighted  full  with  precious  human  forms, — 
Above  the  busy  now.,  whose  slender  point. 
Suspends  the  issues  of  two  worlds,  the  while, 
So  beautiful  she  seems,  admiring  crowds 
View  only  her,  nor  note  the  balances 
In  which  she  weighs  them  all  with  all  their  deeds. 
Committing  to  that  future,  (which  shall  soon 
Be  their  eternal  now),  their  record  strange; 
Above  all  present  struggles,  hopes,  and  fears, 
Our  course  to  that  past  era,  strange,  ascends. 
When  human  life  was  at  its  highest  flood. 
Before  that  dreadful,  swift  decay  began, 
Which  called  for  floods  to  cleanse  a  guilty  world. 

With  joy  we  view  the  golden  age  of  man, 
When  human  life  its  full  development 
Has  reached  in  this  millennium  of  peace. 
With  which  all  life  began.     Xow  man  has  time 
To  live,  and  time  to  grow,  and  time  to  think, 
Untejrified  by  death,  or  war's  alarms. 


1 36  Bionopsis. 

Now  life  is  not  too  short,  nor  art  too  long 
To  meet  this  generation's  utmost  needs, 
An  age  devoted  to  the  fear  of  God, 
The  true  and  living  God,  our  gracious  God, 
Our  loving  father,  who  delights  to  bless 
His  creatures  when  they  scorn  him  not  away. 

'Tis  not  an  era  rife  with  great  events. 
For  sin  and  crime  have  small  development. 
And  Satan's  power  amoug  the  sons  of  God 
Is  hardly  known  ;  and  e'en  the  race  of  Cain, 
Departing  not  in  form  from  serving  God, 
Lived  like  the  men  of  modern  Christendom, 
Who  own  the  living  God  and  Christ,  although 
They  love  and  serve  the  idols  of  their  hearts. 

'Tis  ours  to  mark  the  progress  of  our  race. 
When  seven  long  centuries  have  rolled  away. 

Behold  the  city  where  our  fathers  dwell, 

The  holy  city  of  the  Sons  of  God, 

(Of  Adam  born  "which  was  the  son  of -God.") 

O  city  fair,  what  happy  homes  are  thine. 

Where  peace  and  love  and  beauty  reign  supreme. 

Yet  strange  it  seems,  to  curious  modern  eyes  : 


Where  are  its  domes  and  steeples  l  where  its  towers'? 

Its  theatres,  its  prisons  and  its  courts. 

Its  palaces,  and  crowded  tenements ! 

Its  low  resorts,  the  nests  of  vice  and  crime  t 

Its  factories  witli  dense  ascending  smoke  ? 

The  roar  and  rumble  of  its  business  life  ? 


Book  FiftJi—TJtc  Progress  of  Life.  137 

O  happy  city  !  needing  none  of  these, 

Thou  sit'st  enthroned  in  loveliness  uumarred. 

Ko  bare  high  walls  that  bar  sweet  nature  out. 
And  shut  in  care  and  misery  and  toil, 
Kor  stony,  filthy  streets,  nor  odors  foul 
Offend  our  raptured  senses,  while  Ave  walk 
With  pure  delight,  through  avenues  so  brond, 
That  those  who  laid  them  must  have  deemed  the 

world 
Fidl  large  enough  to  furnish  all  her  sons 
The  room  to  live,  and  breathe  and  move  in  joy. 

And  lo, — the  happy  people  that  we  meet ! 
With  smiles  they  greet  ns,  full  of  all  good-will. 
And  salutations,  craving  peace  from  heaven. 
Nor  seem  they  driven  with  urgent  Avork  or  care, 
Xor  yet  to  loiter  idly  on  in  sloth. 
Kind  nature  gives  them  time  as  well  as  room. 
Most  venerable  men  we  meet,  whose  years, 
By  centuries  counted,  yet  no  burden  lay 
Upon  theii"  forms,  erect,  and  hale,  and  strong. 
And  happy  children,  blooming  briglit  with  health. 
As  frolicsome  as  lambs,  sport  unrebuked  ; 
For  why  should  etiquette  or  stern  restraint 
Impair  their  freedom  where  no  crime  is  feared? 

We  tread  not  first  the  thoroughfares  of  trade ; — 
Environed  here  by  happy  homes  remote 
From  toil,  all  things  invite  repose. 
No  grandeur  greets  the  eye.    No  stately  piles 


138  Biviii'piis. 

Ambitious  to  outshine  the  humbler  homes, 
Excite  to  envy,  arrogance  or  pride. 
Nor  does  stern  poverty  distress  the  sight ; 
But  competence  and  beauty  smile  from  all. 
Here  art  and  nature,  Genii  of  the  place. 
Wedded  most  happily,  together  dwell, 
And  new  born  pleasures,  innocent  and  sweet 
Arise  to  praise  and  bless  the  union  dear. 

The  birth  of  art  was  at  the  birth  of  man. 
Her  earliest  office,  nature  to  adorn  : 
Man's  first  commission,  dressing  Eden's  bowers : 
If  "nature  unadorned,  adorned  the  most," 
Those  bowers  had  been  more  beautiful  undressed ; 
The  proverb  (true  when  art  divine  preserves 
Its  perfect  work)  wild  nature  proves  untrue 
When  artless  left,  she  pushes  blindly  forth. 
Even  when  sin  has  brought  no  taint  nor  curse. 
Still  more  since  thorns  and  thistles  were  decreed 
To  mar  her  beauty.     Now  true  art  restores 
The  grace  of  nature,  and  bestows  new  charms. 

Behold  the  scene  !  we  scarcely  know  if  yet 

We  view  not  here  fair  Paradise  rebuilt, 

With  added  joys  of  human  brotherhood, 

With  interests,  hopes,  and  pleasures  reaching  out 

Wide  o'er  the  world,  the  present,  future,  p:ist. 

Along  the  avenue,  fair,  stately  trees. 

With  cool  embowering  shades,  arise  from  lawns 

Of  freshest  verdure,  or  frora  one  great  ];'.wu 

Unmarred  by  walls  or  fences  (barriers  built 


B(>ok  Fifth — 'J7ic  J'logirss  of  Life.  139 

In  later  days  by  siu),  but  fair  to  see 

Around  each  home  were  massy  beds  of  flowers, 

Whose  varied  hues  of  crimson,  bhie,  and  gold, 

Amid  the  green  of  shrubbery  and  lawn, 

With  pleasing  contrasts  charm  our  happy  eyes. 

The  dwellings,  built  in  various  styles  of  art, 

Of  substance  to  endure  while  centuries  roll, 

Though  seldom  rising  into  storied  height. 

Are  broad  and  am^ile,  full  of  light  and  cheer. 

No  cold  blank  walls  rei^el  the  friendly  eye, 

As  oriental  jealousy  mnst  build, 

In  after  years  when  sin  doth  rule  the  Avorld, 

But  cheerful  windows  welcome  heaven's  sweet  light, 

And  ope  rare  glimpses  both  of  earth  and  heaven. 

And  o'er  the  walls  and  porticos,  fair  vines 

And  gleaming  roses  spread  their  charms,  more  dear 

Than  sculptured  art  or  architectural  dreams. 

Awhile  we  wander  through  the  business  streets. 

But  even  here  we  miss  the  noisy  jar 

Of  modern  cities,  full  of  toil  and  strife. 

The  heavy  loads  are  borne  on  backs  of  beasts 

Of  elephantine  strength,  and  velvet  tread. 

The  merchandise  is  good  and  various  too, 

And  even  rich,  for  precious  stones  and  gold 

Abound,  and  gems  of  curious  workmanshij). 

The  fruit  of  ingenuity  and  skill, 

And  fabrics  fair  in  various  colors  dyed. 

On  every  hand  these  tempt  the  buyer's  purse. 

As  well  as  things  most  needful  for  the  homo, — 


140  Bionopsis. 

The  fruits  and  grains,  fair  jjroducts  of  a  soil 
Of  virgin  richness,  also  implements 
Of  industry,  utensils  cast,  or  forged, 
For  work,  in  home,  or  field,  or  on  the  sea. 

Yet  business  rules  not  all  this  city's  thoughts, 

Nor  drives  its  citizens,  with  headlong  haste. 

From  morn  to  eve,  far  into  weary  night. 

Nor  do  the  palaces  of  pleasure  draw 

The  thoughtless  throngs  to  speed  the  fleeting  hours, 

Nor  gilded  dens  of  vice  allure  the  young 

To  enter  on  the  road  that  leads  to  death. 

In  patriarchal  homes,  whose  gentle  laws 

Eestrain  the  wayward,  and  protect  the  Meak, 

Sweet  pleasure  makes  her  home,   where  joy,  and 

peace 
And  knowledge  dwell,  with  all  affections  pure. 

What  interest,  then,  doth  chiefly  centre  here? 
It  is  not  commerce,  manufactures,  art. 
Nor  halls  of  learning,  wheels  of  government, 
Nor  palaces  of  royal  pomp  and  pride. 

Come  let  us  seek  to  find  the  ruling  thought. 

The  avenues  a  common  centre  seek, — 

A  noble  park  well  filled  with  stately  trees, 

But  full  of  mystery  that  none  may  solve. 

Its  hedge,  thickset  and  tall,  forbids  the  gaze 

Of  curious  eyes,  forbids  each  human  foot  : 

Yea,  unbridged  streams  forbid  too  near  approach. 

At  length  we  stand  before  its  open  gate, 
And  look  across  the  separating  gulf. 


/>'()('/•  Fifth— The  Progress  of  Life,  141 

But  lo !  two  guards  ar-rest  our  startled  siglit, 

Standiug  in  sliiniug  garb,  with  flashing  swords, 

With  supernatural  splendor  in  tlieir  looks. 

At  this  strange  sight,  each  hope  of  entrance  dies  ; — 

Yet  all  the  more  our  longing  souls  desire 

To  penetrate  the  mysterj'  within. 

A  crowd  of  j'outh,  and  venerable  men, 
With  reverent,  earnest  gaze,  stand  looking  in, 
And  oft-  in  adoration,  humbly  bow 
With  prayer  and  praise. 

We  join  the  lowly  group. 
And  seek  the  secret  mystery  to  solve. 

"  What  is  yon  park,  so  carefully  shut  up  % 

'Twas  surely  not  to  tantalize  the  heart, 

That  here,  where  all  seems  innocence  and  peace. 

In  this  fair  city,  full  of  pure  delight, 

This  spot  was  made  the  loveliest  of  all, 

With  every  tree  most  pleasant  to  the  eye. 

And  fruits  whose  richness  charms  the  tranced  sight, 

And  then  walled  in  with  stern  forbidding  thorns ! 

Who  planted  this  fair  garden?  who  reserves 

Its  choicest  pleasures  from  the  general  use  *?" 

To  this  a  reverend  man,  with  pleasant  smile, 
Said, 

"  Stranger,  knowest  thou  not  fair  Eden's  bowers'? 
This  is  the  ancient  Paradise,  where  God 
Held  intercourse  most  intimate  with  man  ; 
But  man  rebelled ;  was  driven  forth ;  and  now 
All  entrance  is  denied :  yet  still,  the  Lord 


142  Bionopsis. 

By  mauy  tokens  ssliows  bis  presence  here. 

No  more  may  luau  levisit  Paradise, 

Or  plant  another  Eden  hero  on  earth  ; 

For  sin  is  here,  yea  in  our  very  heart, 

Yet  still  the  Lord  doth  love  the  sacred  place, 

And  those  who  love  Him,  oft  Hisf'Iory  see, 

And  feci  his  blisslul  presence  in  their  souls. 

Blest  are  the  men,  who  'daily  at  his  gates' 

'  Stand  watching  at  the  posts  of  these  his  doors.'  " 

"  Then  do  not  all,''  we  cry,  "  delight  to  Nvait, 
Here  at  the  gates  of  Paradise,  to  see 
The  glory  of  their  Lord?  niethinks  if  this 
AVere  my  high  privilege,  I  scarce  could  spend 
A  single  day,  without  the  glorious  sight  !  '^ 

"  So  all  would  think,"  replies  the  sage,  "  and  so 
It  is,  with  those  in  whom  the  love  of  God 
Dwells  richly,  and  abounds,  for  love  is  more 
Than  all  the  joys  of  sight,  and  yet  with  most. 
The  joj's  and  cares  of  earth  appear  so  gi-eat 
They  scarce  find  time  to  dwell  before  God's  throne." 

"Happy  the  man,"  saj^  we,  ''whose  house  doth  front 
These  holy  gates,  and  who  doth  ever  dwell 
Within  the  light  of  God's  blest  countenance." 

"That  house  is  Adam's,  father  of  our  race. 
For  seven  long  centuries  he  there  has  dwelt, 
With  gentle  mother  Eve,  and  now  to-night 
His  sons  and  daughters  gather  in  their  house, 
To  celebrate  their  anniversary  day.'' 


Rook  Fifth —  The  Progtrss  of  Life.  143 

••'  Stranger,  art  tlion  among  the  sons  of  God? 
If  so  T  bid  tliee  welcome  to  the  feast." 

The  hmguage  quaint,  we  understand,  as  one 

Who  dreams.     With  feelings  far  too  deep  for  words 

Accept  the  invitation,  and  await, 

With  deepest  interest,  the  appointed  time. 

But  list !     What  music  steals  upon  the  ear  ? 

^-  ^  ^  ^  :)f.  ■^ 

The  quiet  evening  comes,  the  gentle  hour, 
Sweetest  of  all  her  sisters,  dark  or  bright. 
That  crown  the  day  with  splendor  and  with  power. 
Or  weave  the  mystic  charms  of  slumbrous  night. 

O  holy  hour  !  from  earthly  cares  and  charms 
Alluring  oft,  with  meditative  grace. 
Thou  stretchest  out  thy  tender  pleading  arms 
To  woo  us  heavenward  in  thy  warm  embrace. 

The  ruddy  Morn  dispels  our  soft  repose. 
And  summons  loud,  to  labor,  oft  to  strife. 
And  when  the  sun  with  mid-day  fervor  gloM'S 
The  busy  hours  with  earthly  cares  are  rife. 

When,  through  oblivion,  rest  our  strength  redeems, 
Or  while  our  sleej)iug  reason  leaves  the  helm, 
And  thought  drifts  widely  o'er  the  sea  of  dreams. 
Wierd  Midnight  rules  a  dread  and  barren  i-ealni. 

But  Eve,  dear  Eve,  thou  rul'st  a  realm  of  love, 
The  border  land,  where  earth  and  heaven  do  blend, 
While  eaithly  home,  and  yon  dear  home  above 
Their  influence  sweet,  to  charm  our  spirits,  lend. 


144  JUonopsis. 

We  wateli  the  splendors  of  receding  daj , 
Her  uproar  hushed  in  silence  soft  and  deep, 
And  lo,  e'en  now,  yon  star,  Avitli  silver  ray, 
Begins  Ler  vigils  for  the  night  lo  keep. 

Tired  hands  lay  down  the  burdens  of  the  day, 
And  feet  and  happy  fancies  homeward  turn, 
While  welcome  waits,  in  eyes  and  voices  gay. 
And  loving  hearts  with  warm  afCections  burn. 


With  strange  emotions  we  approach  the  Lome 

Where  our  first  Father  dwells :  from  far  off  lauds 

Of  foreign  accent,  and  of  customs  strange. 

And  from  an  era  so  remote  and  dim, 

That  e'en  the  farthest  star  would  seem  more  cleai  ,- 

A  generation  of  futurity, 

Desevered  by  the  lapse  of  age  on  age. 

We  dare  not  hoi^e  he'll  own  us  for  a  son. 

And  towards  a  Sire,  so  distant,  though  so  near, 

We  cannot  fully  feel  the  filial  tie; 

And  yet  with  reverential  joy  we  come. 

To  claim  the  notice  of  a  man  so  great. 

The  representative  of  all  our  race, 

Whom  we  may  boldly  for  a  parent  claim  : 

With  curions  interest  too,  to  learn  the  thoughts 

Of  one  acquainted  with  the  fount  of  life. 

But  whence  this  strange  new  light '?  as  if  (he  dav>'n 
Were  blending  with  the  very  light  of  hea\'en  f 


Book  FiftJi —  The  Progress  of  Life.  145 

'Tis  not  tlie  moon's,  hut  I'airer  far  than  liers, 
Though  beautiful  her  injstic  light  may  be, 
Uplifting  gently,  pious  hearts  towards  heaven. 
This  issues  from  the  gates  of  Paradise  ! 
It  is  !  it  is !  the  glory  of  the  Lord  ! 

^  ^  ^  >ic  ^ 

From  contemplation  of  this  glorious  sight, 
We  turn,  at  last,  to  Adam's  house  once  more. 

Behold  him  !  standing  on  the  ample  porch, 

A  stately  man,  majestic  in  his  mien. 

Of  massive  brow,  and  flowing  silver  locks, 

And  eyes  whose  lustre,  yet  undimmed  by  age, 

Seems  made  to  pierce  the  thoughts  of  other  men, — 

A  king  of  men,  the  world's  First  Pati'iarcl). 

A  very  ''  Son  of  God,''  a  mighty  man. 

And  "  little  lower  than  the  angels  "  made, 

"  With  glor^^  crowned  "  and  "  honor  "  from  his  God. 

Set  o'er  the  works  of  God's  own  liands  he  rules 

His  empire,  heir  apparent  of  his  Lord. 

And  yet  no  haughtiness  or  harshness  marks 

His  countenance  benign,  but  peace  and  love 

Eeign  in  his  heart,  and  through  him  rule  the  world. 

Each  humblest  subject  his  own  son  he  claims, 

And  honors  with  a  father's  tenderness. 

A  happy  smile  o'er  all  his  features  plays, 

As  on  the  fields  there  fall,  through  summer  clouds. 

Sweet  gleams  of  light,  and  yet  the  meekness  there. 

And  pensiveness,  that  oft  enshade  his  face. 

Are  traces  clear  of  former  shame  and  grief. 

Beside  him  stands  our  queenly  mother  Eve, 


146  Bionopsis. 

Still  lovely  ill  Ler  age  !  IIow  beautiful, 
Siil)i'emely  beuutilul,  v.-lien  first  she  rose 
Ou  Adam's  ravished  sight,  in  Paradise  ! 
The  morniug  star  that  filled  his  world  with  light ! 

With  matron  dignity,  and  cjiieenly  grace  ; 
She  now  presides  o'er  Adam's  heart  and  homo. 
And  with  a  mother's  tenderness  and  love, 
Eeceives  her  guests  as  children,  near  and  dear 

And  so  her  children  come,  with  filial  love. 
And  haijpy  confidence,  and  freedom  too, 
And  yet  with  deep  respect,  and  reverence. 

A  goodly  company  of  noble  men, 
Nature's  true  noblemen,  assembled  now. 
With  maids  and  matrons,  whose  rare  loveliness 
Betokens  kinship  intimate  with  Heaven. 

The  marble,  at  the  magic  touch  of  art, 
Inspired  by  genius,  starts  uj)  into  forms 
Of  rarest  beauty,  and  ideal  grace. 
And  so  the  canvass  seems  to  glow  and  blush, 
In  richest  colors,  from  the  painter's  hand. 
But  chiseled  forms  and  features  vie  in  vain, 
In  vain  the  painter's  glowing  colors  vie 
With  all  the  living  loveliness  and  grace 
Of  Eve's  fair  daughters,  near  the  dawn  of  time, 
Fresh  from  the  hand  of  nature,  and  of  God  ! 
The  glow  of  perfect  health  uj)on  the  cheek, 
The  inimitable  bloom  of  lasting  youth. 
Blent  with  the  noble  grace  of  womanhood, 


Book  Fifth —  The  Pfogress  of  Life.  147 

Faces  lit  up  with  asj)irations  true, 

UiiniaiTcd  by  potty  passion,  grief,  or  sin, 

Tlie  leader  light  illumining  the  eye, 

( )f  hope,  and  pleasure,  and  of  precious  love, 

Shining  on  all  (and  shining  unabashed, 

For  all  are  worthy — brothers,  sisters,  here), 

The  flowing  richness  of  the  glossy  hair. 

The  rounded  contour  of  the  graceful  form. 

The  play  of  sweet  expression  more  than  all. 

Through  whieli  the  soul's  own  beauty  flashes  forth, 

And  mystic  charm  of  manners'  witching  grace, 

All,  all  entrance  our  soul,  with  wondrous  joy  ; 

The  while  we  think,  "  if  man  is  '  little  less 

Than  angel,'  in  his  strength  and  dignity, 

Woman  may  well  compare  in  beauty's  charm.' 

The  company,  assembled  on  the  lawn. 

After  their  loving  greetings  first  are  o'er. 

And  mirth  and  music  pleasantly  subside, 

Turn  all  theii-  faces  to  the  beauteous  gate. 

And,  bowing  low,  tune  heart  and  voice  to  praise. 

Adam,  the  service  leads,  as  well  becomes 

The  father,  in  his  household,  king,  and  priest. 

And  first  of  all  a  sacrificial  lamb 

Upon  the  altar  yields  its  sinless  life, 

Type  of  that  lamb  that,  sinless,  bore  our  sins, 

The  very  "  Lamb  of  God,"  taking  away 

^'The  sins  of  all  the  world."     Then  rose  a  hymn 

Of  adoration  and  of  praise  to  God. 

But  hark! 

What  is  this  mighty  sound  that  blends 


148  Bionopsis. 

With  this  sweet  hymn?  e'en  as  the  swelling  tones 
Of  some  vast  organ,  whose  resounding  notes 
In  their  deep  basso,  shake  the  edifice  ? 
Or  as  the  thunder  makes  the  very  soul 
To  tremble  at  its  power?    And  yet  this  sound 
Not  power  alone,  but  harmony  conveys. 
'Tis  as  "the  sound  of  many  waters,"  borne, 
In  steady  current,  o'er  the  cataract' s  verge, 
Or  as  the  mighty  roll  of  storm-tossed  seas, 
Or  as  the  notes  of  vast  seolean  lyres, 
Stretching  from  sky  to  sky,  and  breathing  out 
The  breath  of  every  breeze,  in  praise  to  God ! 

Our  souls,  exultant,  rise  upon  the  wings 

Of  this  majestic  anthem,  upward  borne 

To  loftiest  heights,  of  rapture,  joj'^,  and  praise. 

Though  words  unknown  from  other  lips  may  sound, 

The  harmony,  and  joy,  and  praise  are  one. 

We  lift  our  voice,  and  join  the  chorus  loud, 

Singing,  and  making  melody  to  God. 

But  whence  this  mighty  song?     Is  it  from  tongues 

Of  unseen  spirits  in  the  realms  of  air? 

Nay,  'tis  from  human  hearts,  and  human  lips; 

For,  when  its  cadences  at  last,  are  hushed — 

(Only  sweet  murmurings  ling' ring  on  the  ear), 

When  e'en  the  echoing  hills  rejoice  no  more, 

In  unison  with  this  great  human  joj, 

We  seek  the  meaning  of  the  psalm  sublime, — 

The  ancient  man,  whose  invitation  kind 

Had  drawn  us  here,  roiiows  liis  greetings  now, 

And  satisfies  our  eager  questionings. 


Book  Fifth— The  rfVi^nss  of  Life.  149 

"This  is  tlie  city's  evening  hymn  of  praise; 
For  at  this  hour  the  glory  of  the  Lord 
Tllunies  the  sky,  and  sanctifies  each  home 
With  radiance,  reaching  to  the  very  soul, 
More  sweet  and  tender  than  the  sacred  light 
Of  holy  Sabbath  eve,  and  every  heart 
That  loves  the  Lord  sings  from  excess  of  joy, 
E"  en  as  the  birds,  when  morning  tints  the  sky, 
Tune  their  soft  notes  in  universal  praise." 

At  length  the  brightness  fades  into  the  night, 
And  Adam  welcomes  all  his  guests  within. 
We  cannot  pause  to  trace  the  features  rare 
Of  this  fair  home ;  our  thoughts  are  all  engaged 
With  higher  themes.     This  venerable  man, 
And  lovely  woman,  who  have  learned  so  well 
The  secret  of  a  long  and  happy  life. 
Of  innocence  and  youth  so  well  preserved, 
And  wedded  to  a  wisdom  near  divine. 
May  teach  us  what  we  most  desire  to  know. 
And  many  facts  of  nature  we  may  learn 
Of  which  philosophers  of  modern  times 
Can  onlj-  wildly  speculate,  in  vain. 

Our  friend  conducts  us  to  our  Father's  seat, 
And  introduces  us  with  reverent  bow. 

"  Behold  a  youthful  son  and  stranger  here. 
Who  visits  Eden's  city,  from  some  realm 
By  us  unknown,  and  owns  the  sacred  names 
'  A  Son  of  Adam,'  and  a  '  Son  of  God ! ' " 


1 50  Bionopsis. 

Well  pleased  the  father  stretches  forth  his  hand, 
In  welcome  kind. 

"Whence  art  thou,  O  my  Son? 
What  is  thy  name?  And  fiom  what  family  sprung  % 
And  (since  for  thee  is  claimed  the  title  high 
A  Son  of  God)  I  marvel  thou  art  still 
A  stranger  to  this  city  of  our  God." 

"I  come,  O  father,  from  a  distant  land, 

Either  towards  rising  or  the  setting  sun. 

So  far  that  if  I  journeyed,  day  by  day. 

At  swiftest  speed  of  this  primeval  age, 

A  year  or  more  had  scarcely  brought  me  here. 

Vast  intervening  oceans  spread  their  wastes 

Of  briny  waters,  and  tumultuous  waves, 

And  depths  profound,  which  teem  with  monsters 

strange. 
To  separate  that  fair  new  world  from  this. 
But  strangest  yet  of  all,  the  sea  of  time, 
Which  sweeps  to  dark  oblivion  human  life, 
Eolls  up  its  Lethean  waves  of  ages  past 
Between  thine  age  and  mine." 

With  startled  eyes, 
And  deepening  interest,  eager  and  intense. 
The  father  now  would  many  questions  ask. 

"  O  son,  deceive  me  not.    Thy  story  strange 
Incredible,  impossible,  appears. 
But  if  some  messenger  from  Heaven,  disguised, 
Thou  com'st  to  speak  of  things  as  yet  far  off, 
And,  in  the  future  dim,  from  us  concealed, 


Book  Fifth — The  Progress  of  Life.  151 

Oh  speak  !  for  we  have  much  to  ask.    Oh  tell  I 
How  fare  the  sons  of  men  %    Do  they  depart 
From  foithfiil  service  of  the  living  God  ? 
What  i)rogress  do  they  make  in  Avinning  back 
The  favor  (I  have  forfeited)  of  God ! ' ' 

"  Progress  indeed,  O  father,  they  have  made, 
Most  wonderful  in  science  and  in  art, 
But  not,  alas  !  in  ways  that  lead  to  God ! 
How  shall  I  tell  the  story,  sad  and  strange, 
O  venerated  sire,  of  all  thy  sons  % 
But,  even  as  I  speak,  an  influence  strong 
Eestrains  my  lips.     I  am,  indeed,  not  sent 
A  messenger  to  thee.     I  come  to  learn 
And  tell  to  mine  own  age  the  things  I  see. 
Oh  let  me  ask  of  thee,  this  question  great, 
What  is  the  secret  of  the  truest  life  ?  " 

"  Plainly,  my  son,  it  is  in  being  teue 

TO  HIM  WHO  LIVES  the  SOURCE  OF  ALL  TEUE  LIFE.'' 

''  Oh  teach  me,  father.    I  desire  to  learn 
And  place  myself  submissive  at  thy  feet. ' ' 

Then  he 

"  It  is  most  fitting  that  the  sons 
Should  from  experience  of  their  fathers  learn  ; 
Yet  it  is  wise  the  future  to  regard  : 
And  our  hearts  yearn  to  know  its  mysteries." 

At  this  a  young  and  noble  man  stands  forth, — 
One  of  the  youngest  of  the  company, — 
Though  even  he  his  four  score  years  may  claim. 


1 52  ■  Bionopsis. 

His  eyes  are  glistening  with  prophetic  fire, 
His  countenance  beaming  with  celestial  light, 
Wliile  every  ej^e  and  ear  attention  give. 
(His  age  and  lineage,  whispered  low,  we  learnj. 

His  name  is  Enoch,  and  he  leads  his  son, 
A  stripling  of  a  dozen  years  or  more, 
Methuselah  by  name,  and  bowing  low. 
With  hand  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  lad 
He  says 

"This  boy,  O  Father,  shall  behold 
The  great  catastrophe  ! — the  dreadful  end, 
Of  all  this  living  world,  save  that '  in  wrath 
The  Lord  remembers  mercy,'  and  declares 
'A  remnant  shall  be  saved.'     Let  me,  O  sire. 
The  'seventh  from  thee,'   inspired  from  God  him- 
self. 
Foretell  the  things  you  so  desire  to  learn. 
Let  me  declare,  to  all  who  hear  me  now 
(And  unto  generations  yet  to  come. 
Till  time  shall  be  no  more),  the  wrath  of  God 
Against  all  those  who  spurn  his  w  ondrous  love, 
And  scorning  to  be  children,  live  his  foes. 
His  foes  they  die, — as  foes  forever  live 
(Forever  dying).     Since  no  love  could  win, 
No  wrath  could  drive  their  souls,  from  scorn,  to  love. 

A  dreadful  woe  awaits  this  erring  world ; 
For  sin,  now  born,  shall  grow  and  multiply 
Till  all  the  world,  corrupted,  and  debased, 
And  filled  with  wickedness,  and  violence, 


Book  FiftJi — The  Pfo^fcss  of  Life.  153 

Polluted,  stuiued  with  guilt  of  deepest  dye, 
(No  seas  or  floods  could  ever  wash  away), 
Calls  down  thy  retribution,  righteous  Heaven!" 

He  i)auses, — and  a  breathless  stillness  reigns, 
Deeper  than  muteness  of  the  silent  stars 
(It  seems  we  might  e'ea  hear  each  other  think). 
While  each  explores  his  anxious  heart  to  find 
If  sin  reigns  there,  and  questions, ''  Is  it  I  ? " 

"  My  Father,"  he  resumes,  "  'tis  not  alone 
The  race  of  Cain,  hath  w  andered  from  the  Lord, 
E'en  now  some  sons  of  God  have  joined  in  heart, 
And  in  unholy  wedlock  joined  their  souls 
With  those  who  love  not  God  ;  a  carnal  love 
Hath  so  out-stripped  the  love  of  God  and  Heaven ! 
This  folly  still  must  grow.    So  Satan  wins 
By  fair  devices. 

And  'tis  here  we  see 
The  small  beginnings  of  the  awful  end. 

"But  hear  me,  Father,  si  ill. 

God  will  restore 
Once  more  the  ruins  of  a  fallen  world. 
But  soon  (alas!  how  soon !)  the  cunning  foe, 
Who  claims  this  earthly  empire  as  his  own. 
Shall  lead  the  foolish  heaits  of  sinful  men 
Astray  from  God,  to  serve  his  own  vile  will. 
Then  thickest  gloom  of  spiritual  night. 
And  'darkness  deep  shall  cover  all  the  earth/ 
'Gross  darkness  all  the  people,'  steeped  in  sin. 
In  vile  and  foolish  superstitions  lost. 


1 54  Bionopsis. 

'  But  unto  those  who  in  the  rejijion  sit, 

And  shadow  deej),  of  death,  shall  light  arise.' 

On  souls  in  hopeless  gloom,  all  sick  with  sin 

Shall  surely  rise  the  'Sun  of  righteousness,' 

'With  healing  in  his  beams.'     So  sorrowing  jnen 

Shall  consolation  find  at  last  in  him 

Whom  they  had  wronged  by  sin. 

Behold,  <J  sire. 
The  type  and  prophecy  in  these  thy  sons! 
Their  very  names  bespeak  the  mystery, 
Array  them  in  their  order.     '  Adam '  thou 
The  first,   'Seth,'  'Enos,'   'Cainan,'   'Mah^aleel 
Next '  Jared,'  'Enoch'  and  'Methuselah,' 
But  'Lamech'  yet  and  'Noah'  too  must  come. 
Then  may  you  read  in  their  successive  names. 

'Man'    'Placed'     In    'Misery'     'Lamentable' 
Ihe  'Praise  of  God'   'Descends,'  who,  'Conse 

CRATE,' 

The  'Spoil  of  Death,'  'Tastes'  'Consolation' 

sweet. 
The  hidden  meaning  of  this  prophecy, 
Wove  in  the  very  warp  of  history. 
Will  yet  be  known  bj^  those  who  love  the  Loid. 
It  has  a  meaning  w^orthy  of  the  Lord. 
To  us  it  is  not  given  to  know  the  whole. 
Some  awful  horror  waits  the  guilty  world. 
Some  dark  conspiracy  of  death  and  hell, 
Against  the  Lord  of  life,  which  men  shall  join. 
But  over  all  the  Lord  shall  triumph  yet, 
Most  gloi-iously  shall  triumph,  and  shall  'crush 


Book  Fifth —  TIic  Progress  of  Life.  \  5  5 

The  serpent's  head,  though  it  shall  bruise  his  heel,' 
E'en   through  this  hideous  crime,   the  Lord  shall 

bring 
Forgiveness, — from  this  sin  of  deepest  dye, 
The  grace  that  cleanses  man  from  ca  ery  sin. 
And  o'er  this  worst,  most  horrible  assault 
Of  hell,  God's  victory  is  most  complete. 
Even  '  the  wrath  of  men  shall  praise  the  Lord. 
Beyond  this,  all  their  '  wrath  he  shall  restrain.' 
But  wrath  remains  for  those  who  spurn  his  love. 
The  day  of  wrath,  which  ends  the  world,  begins! 
'Behold  the  Lord  doth  come!    He  comelii  with 
Ten  thousand  of  his  sons!  to  execute 
His  judgment  upon  all,  and  to  convince 
Ungodly  men  of  their  ungodly  deeds, 
\yhich  thej'  ungodly  did,  and  speeches  hard 
Ungodly  sinners  spoke  against  the  Lord.' 
Then  will  the  Lord  take  all  his  ransomed  home. 
And  sin,  and  woe  shall  vex  their  souls  no  more.'' 

He  ceases:  still  his  count' nance  glows  with  fire. 

His  solemn  words  still  weigh  on  every  heart. 

A  painful  silence  rests  upon  us  all, 

Eelieved  by  long  drawn  sighs,  for  though  his  words 

Speak  comfort  for  the  souls  that  love  their  Lord, 

They  tell  of  wrath,  and  ruin  for  the  race. 

Moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost  the  prophet  spake, 
And  they  who  heard,  much  of  his  spirit  shared 
But  'not  unto  themselves  they  ministered 
The  things  they  spake,'  kept  for  a  later  age. 


156  Bio  nop  sis. 

They,  like  the  angels,  ^' still  desired  to  look" 
Deep  into  myst'ries  time  alone  would  solve. 
They  question  much  concerning  who,  or  what 
''The  spirit  which  was  in  them  signified, 
"Which  testified  the  sufifeiings  of  Christ 
And  glory  that  should  follow"  from  his  death. 

As  for  ourselves,  we  gazed  on  Enoch's  face, 

All  radiant  with  the  glory  of  the  Lord, 

With  thoughts  and  feelings  close  akin  to  awe. 

Oft  had  we  read  his  marvMous  history, 

So  well  condensed  in  one  brief  paragraph. 

And  sometimes  more  than  mortal  he  had  seemed, 

"Who  triumphed  o'er  mortality  itself. 

"What  mortal  e'er  gained  greater  victory, 

Or  better  worth  perpetual  renown  ? 

The  world's  great  warriors  triumphed  not  o'er  death, 

Nor  over  sin,  nor  self,  but  o'er  brute  force, 

By  more  brute  force,  or  over  feeble  skill, 

By  more  satanic  cunning,  craft,  and  skill. 

God's  glory  and  the  welfare  of  the  world 

Were  not  their  aims.     Enthroning  self  sujireme. 

Like  horrid  deities,  well  pleased  with  blood. 

The  sacrifices  offered  to  themselves 

Were  hecatombs  of  precious  human  lives! 

Widows  and  orphans  their  libations  poured 

In  bitter  tears!     Habiliments  of  woe, 

AVere  fitting  tokens  of  their  victories! 

And  wails  of  l^roken  hearts  their  mnsic  sweet! 

In  league  with  death,  against  their  fellow  men, 

Themselves,  his  agents,  victims  were  at  last ! 


Book  Fifth—  The  Progress  of  Life.  i  5; 

Behold  the  conqueror  proudly  styled  "The  Great," 

Young  Alexander  flushed  with  victory! 

His  Macedonian  phalanx,  like  a  rock 

Hurled  at  a  reedy  biake,  went  crashing  through 

The  armies  of  Darius,  opening  up 

His  bloody  way  to  an  imperial  throne. 

How  long?  for  one  brief  giddy  hour!  and  then — 

A  bacchanalian  revel !    Lo !  he  lies 

Conquered  in  ignominious  death! — the  cup, 

The  base  and  treacherous  cup  his  conquei-or! 

The  cup  that  fascinates  both  great  and  small, 

Deluding,  with  an  hour's  delirious  joy. 

To  rob  of  fortune,  virtue,  reason,  life  ! 

The  cui),  Ai^ollyou's  most  successful  bait. 

More  potent  than  the  strategems  of  war. 

Entrapping  warriors,  statesmen,  poets,  kings  ! — 

The  kings  in  Pompoy's  triumph  led  in  chains 

Were  never  vanquished  by  so  base  a  foe. 

Abimelech  and  Sisera  themselves. 

Though  slain  by  women's  hands,  died  noble  deaths 

Compared  with  those  who,  conquered  by  the  cup. 

Were  first  befooled,  enslaved,  and  then  destroyed. 

O  base  and  traitorous  cup  !    Thou  cheatest  men. 

With  counterfeit  of  happiness  and  life, 

To  lead  them  on  to  misery  and  death! 

Yet  Alexander  filled  full  many  a  page 

Of  pompous  history,  and  found  a  host 

To  write  the  praises  of  his  mighty  deeds. 

Dost  thou,  O  Enoch,  covet  noM^  his  fame? 

Oh  thou  hast  triumphed  over  death  itself, 


1 58  Bionopsis. 

By  liim  wlio  is  '•'•  tlie  way,  the  truth  and  Life.'' 
Thou  walkedst  in  the  path  of  life  with  God, 
And  from  the  fount  of  life  didst  daily  diink. 
Well  didst  thou  leave  the  cup  of  sinful  joy 
To  those  who  blindly  choose  the  way  of  death. 
Well  didst  thou  leave  the  scroll  of  fame  to  men 
Who  wish  to  seem  the  hero  here  in  dust. 
Thy  pure  ambition  was  to  stand  approved 
In  sight  of  Heaven,  before  thy  Father,  God  ! 
Brief  though  thy  record  here,  'tis  writ  in  light, 
And  thy  memorial  ever  shines  on  high. 

Behold,  O  fellow  men,  the  highest  type 
Of  merely  mortal  man  !    Behold  true  life, 
In  fullest  blossom  in  the  light  of  God  ! 
Mortality  itself  drew  back  abashed 
From  presence  so  divine.    Its  dismal  shade 
Could  never  darken  one  illumed  of  God. 

Life's  secret  for  all  ages  lies  in  this, 
"  He  walked  with  God,"  was  caught  from  earth,  to 
God! 

But  did  the  man  of  God  ignore  the  joys 
Of  human  friendship,  love,  and  earthly  home  ? 
Or  did  he  speed  untimely  flight  to  Heaven  ? 
Nay,  brief  his  life  for  that  primeval  age, 
Yet  lingered  he  his  blessed  year  of  years ; 
And  in  his  hallowed  home  were  many  born 
Of  loving  sons  and  daughters,  leaving  proofs 
How  well  agree  home  joys  with  holiest  life ! 


Book  Fifth —  The  Progress  of  Life.  1 59 

Adieu  fair  city  of  the  sous  of  God  ! 

Passing  to  other  scenes,  with  speed  of  thought, 

We  pause  rehictaut  in  the  reahns  of  Cain. 

A  high  walled  city  frowns  on  our  approach, 

With  heavy  gates,  and  bustling  battlements. 

And  hark  !     Amidst  the  din  of  busj-  life, 

The  sound  of  martial  music,  and  the  clang 

Of  armored  hosts  alarm  the  startled  ear ! 

Yet,  curious  to  behold,  we  still  draw  near. 

"  Hold  ! ''  crys  a  sentinel,  ''  what  ho  ! "     "  Advance, 

And  give  the  countersign  !     Or  wait  the  guard!  " 

We  pause,  but,  with  the  liberty  of  dreams, 

Pass  like  a  shade !  (They  seemed  not  shades  to  us 

Too  like,  alas !  to  men  of  our  own  age. ) 

Within  we  see  the  "stir  of  life"  (so  called). 

Can  life,  without  a  soul,  be  truly  life  f 

Or  where  the  soul  lies  dormant,  or  forgot  ? 

Where  all  its  highest  int' rests,  truest  hopes, 

And  noblest  faculties  are  left  to  drift 

To  utter  wreck  and  ruin,  past  all  hope  ? 

And  why  %    To  win  the  ijhantoms  of  an  hour ! 

Ah  !  life  without  a  soul  is  like  the  grin. 

The  dread  convulsive  grin  of  ghastly  ghosts ! — 

To  galvanize  to  momentary  life 

The  dead  soul-suicide,  who,  for  such  life. 

Will  forfeit  right  to  immortality. 

Is  mockery  to  make  of  God  himself. 

From  whom  all  true  life  springs. 

But  dost  thou  think, 


l6o  Bionopsis. 

O  fellow  mortal,  our  discourse  too  harsh  % 
'Tis  as  the  north  wind,  to  disperse  the  fogs, — 
Though  warm,  yet  charged  with  miasmatic  death, — 
To  bring  a  clearer,  purer  atmosphere. 

Dost  thou  affirm  this  life  is  beautiful, 

Though  lived  for  earth  alone?  and  dost  thou  point 

To  blooming,  happy  childhood,  yet  untaught 

To  seek  the  things  above?    "Tis  not  denied. 

The  smile  of  death  may  still  be  beautiful  ; — 

The  bi'ight  hues  of  the  bubble,  e'er  it  bursts ; — 

Even  destruction  may  array  itself 

In  flaming  sj)lendor ;  yea  e'en  Satan  seems 

An  angel  fair,  of  light;— the  crawling  worm 

May  have  a  beauty  though  it  die  unchanged, 

And  miss  the  glory  yet  to  be  revealed : 

Ikit  that  alone  is  true  and  noble  life 

Which  e'er  proves  true  to  true  and  noble  ends. 

Is  that  true  life  which  finds  its  terminus 

The  sad  and  silent  city  of  the  dead  ? 

Or  that  which,  born  on  earth,  transferred  to  Heaven, 

With  deeper,  purer,  more  exuberant  joy, 

Expands,  intensifies,  abides  for  aye "? 

Here  flourishes,  indeed,  what  men  call  life, 
O  city,  far  from  God's  sweet  light  and  peace. 
All  full  of  bustle,  noise,  and  enteri)rise. 
But  also  full  of  envy,  hate,  and  pride, 
''Debate,  deceit,  malignity,"  and  strife, 
Sharp  competition  and  oppression  foul. 
Some  joys  indeed  are  thine,  the  very  thriU 


Book  Fifth — The  Progress  of  Life.  i6i 

Of  war- like  preparation  fills  the  heart 

Of  fallen  man  with  high,  exultant  hope, 

And  life,  intense,  rages  along  with  death. 

In  heat  of  battle, — and  when  victory 

Brief  transport  brings ; — but  certain  doom  awaits 

All  those  who  strive  for  earthly  crowns  alone 

(E'en  crowned  awhile,  or  prostrate  on  the  field). 

Hear  then,  ye  men  whose  lust,  and  greed,  and  pride 
Rule  all  your  souls,  the  judgment  which  shall  fall 
When  all  your  seeds  of  sin  are  fully  ripe. 

Oh  dreadful  day,  when  earth  itself,  with  Heaven, 
And  seas  shall  join  to  spue  you  forth,  in  wrath, 
From  this  sad  earth  your  wickedness  hath  cursed. 
O  day  of  universal  woe  and  fear  ! 
O  day  of  darkness,  deep  despair,  and  death  ! 
God's  mercy  sweet,  too  long  despised,  abused, 
And  scorned,  has  taken  her  sad  flight  to  Heaven, 
And  stern  avenging  wrath  stands  in  her  place. 
To  whelm  a  guilty  world  in  righteous  doom. 

If  we  live  in  the  Spirity  let  us  also  walk  in  the  iSpiril. 
Gal.  V.  25. 
II 


f¥IR         ®i 


PROEM. 

O  Father,  to  whom  shall  we  go, 
"When  sorrow  or  sin  doth  prevail. 

To  whom  bring  our  care  and  our  woe, 
When  all  other  comforters  fail? 

Look  down,  we  beseech  thee,  look  down 
From  Heaven,  thy  glorious  throne, 

O  fright  not  our  hearts  with  thy  frown  : 
Eemember  our  souls  are  thine  own. 

In  infinite  mercy,  behold 
The  weakness  and  frailty  of  men, 

Now  springing  like  grass  from  the  mold, 
Kow  moldring  to  ashes  again. 

Thou  dost  in  all  rapturous  light. 

Sublime,  inaccessible,  dwell. 
Our  thoughts,  in  their  loftiest  flight, 

Thy  greatness  and  glory  excel. 

Dawn's  feeble  and  tremulous  light, 
That  steals  over  night's  wintry  skies, 

Is  type  of  our  wisdom  and  might: — 
Our  rapture  is  mingled  with  sighs. 

Our  journey  with  sorrow  is  rife. 

And  darkened  with  sin  and  with  night. 

''With  thee  is  the  fountain  of  life," 

"In  thy  light  we  ever  see  light." 
165 


BOOK  SIXTH. 

At  last  the  time  drew  uear  when  God  should  call 
His  servant  Adam  hoiue. 

Well  worn  with  years. 
And  weary  with  the  wickedness  and  woe 
Of  this  sad,  God-forsaken  world,  relieved 
Of  all  resiJonsibility  by  age 
01  earthly  office,  or  of  toil  and  care. 
He  turned  more  frequently  his  longing  thoughts 
To  that  sweet  rest  he  hoped  would  soon  begin, 
Whene'er  the  prophecy  should  be  fulfilled, 
"The  woman's  seed  shall  bruise  the  serpent's  head." 

And  thus  he  spoke 

"  O  dear  and  faithful  wife. 

My  sweet  companion  near  a  thousand  years. 

Our  pilgrimage  is  drawing  towards  its  close. 

Dost  thou  not  long  for  rest? 

Our  way  indeed 

Has  been  most  pleasant.    God  has  greatly  blessed 

His  most  unworthy  servants,  and  has  spared 

All  needless  penalties  and  pains  of  sin. 

Just,  were  his  wrath,  had  sudden  vengeance  seized 

Our  guilty  souls,  and  cut  us  off  at  once ! 

And  yet  how  long  his  patience  has  endured! 

How  infinite  his  mercy  and  his  love. 

Breathing  sweet  promise  e'en  of  life  through  death, 

And  filling  all  our  lives  with  earthly  good. 
167 


i68  Bionopsis. 

And  yet  I  yearn  for  home.     The  A\'ay  seems  long 

That  brings  nsback  to  God  from  banishment. 

No  life  is  fully  blest  apart  from  him. 

Our  lives  that  like  the  angels'  might  have  ))een 

Perpetual  youth,  in  God's  bright  presence  blest. 

But  doomed  to  be  but  transitory  breath, 

In  exile  spent,  and  sojourn  far  from  God, 

Are  now  drawn  out  in  feebleness  and  i)aiii, 

And  burdened  with  the  very  weight  of  years. 

But  worse,  alas,  far  worse  the  gathering  gloom 

That  shrouds  this  sinful  scene  with  deepening  guilt. 

Once,  men  respected  my  authority. 

And  well  obeyed  my  patriarchal  laws. 

And  loved  and  served  the  true  and  living  God ; 

But  now  my  sons  despise  my  feeble  age, 

And  wicked  men,  grown  bold,  scorn  all  restraint, 

And  turn  aside  to  vanity  and  lies. 

May  God  remove  us  where  '  the  wicked  cease 
From  troubling,  and  the  weary  are  at  rest.' 
Surely  thy  promised  seed  that  rest  shall  bring. 
Yet  this  I  long  to  ask,  why  thine?  not  mine?" 

Then  Eve 

With  meekness  and  humility. 
And  deep  prophetic  foresight  well  replied 

"  Through  me  came  sin,  through  me  the  sinless  one 
Shall  bring  redemption  from  all  sin  and  death  ! 
How  marvelous  the  mercy  of  our  God ! 
His  power  and  wisdom  far  beyond  all  praise, 


Book  Six  til — Faith    Triumphant.  169 

"Who  greater  grace  returns  for  greatest  sin, 

Who  blessings  grants  us  e'en  through  chastisement, 

And  greatest  triumphs  brings  from  dire  defeat." 

But  Adam  asked  "when  shall  this  triumph  be? 

For  day  by  daj^  the  powers  of  Satan  grow, 

And  violence  and  crime  range  through  the  earth ! 

O  sainted  Enoch,  early  snatched  away 

From  witnessing  the  downward  course  of  men, 

Thy  gentle  spirit  surely  is  at  rest, 

And  with  the  Lord  whom  thou  on  earth  didst  love 

His  love  has  spared  thee  e'en  the  pangs  of  death, 

And  taken  thee  from  evil  yet  to  come. 

How  would  thy  pure  and  holy  sj)irit  grieve 

To  see  this  day.    Yet  thou  didst  pi'ophesy 

Great  judgment  on  the  guilty  race  of  men. 

Shall  then  the  victory  and  rest  begin. 

The  rule  of  Satan  cease,  and  men  become 

True  friends  and  servants  of  the  living  Godl " 

Alas !   Too  soon,  O  Adam,  dost  thou  hope 
Peace  for  a  guilty  world.    But  thine  own  peace 
Is  near,  though  pangs  of  bitter  giief  and  pain 
Must  rend  thee,  soul  and  body,  e'er  'tis  thine. 

Ah,  who  can  tell  the  loneliness  and  woe 
That  long  and  darkly  shadowed  all  thy  soul. 
When  Eve  her  fond  farewell  hreathed  forth  at  last. 
Fair  Eve,  for  whose  dear  love  thou  once  didst  choose 
To  forfeit  Paradise,  who  since  has  proved, 
Nine  hundred  years  and  more,  a  friend  so  true, 
So  lovely,  tender,  fond,  supremely  dear. 


17©  Bionopsis. 

That  thou  hast  found  in  her  thy  purest  joy, 
Thy  greatest  strength,  thy  wisest  counsellor. 
Thy  sweetest  solace  in  adversity, 
Yea  half  thy  life  !  far  more  than  half  thy  life  ! 

Not  long  in  loneliness  thou' It  linger  here 
(More  lonely  now  than  erst  in  Paradise 
Where  once  'twas  said  "not  good  to  be  alone," 
Though  hosts  iuDumerable  call  thee  sire), 
The  summons  thou  dost  wait  shall  come  at  last 
To  call  thee  hence,  and,  happy,  hie  thee  home ! 

*  *  ■)(.  if.  %  % 

Around  the  bedside  of  the  aged  man, 
First  Patriarch  of  his  race,  stood  mourning  sous. 
And  weeping  daughters,  waiting  for  the  hour, 
Appointed  by  the  Lord  to  loose  the  bands 
That  bound  his  spirit  to  its  house  of  clay, 
And  hide  it  henceforth  from  sub-stellar  eyes. 
What  holy  tender  ministries  were  theirs  ! 
How  deej)  and  pure  their  reverential  love  ! 
What  sacred  sorrow  filled  their  heavy  hearts ! 
And  yet  how  sweet  the  hope,  when  all  was  o'er, 
"  Their  OMai  sad  loss,  his  everlasting  gain." 

Oft  through  the  day  the  bulletins  went  forth. 
While  life  still  struggled  tremblingly  with  death, 
Throughout  the  city,  thence  through  all  the  reahi 
And  when  his  corse  was  laid  at  last  to  rest. 
His  dust  to  mingle  soon  with  kindred  dust, 
"Great  lamentation  over  him  was  made," 
While  countless  hosts  beheld  his  burial. 


Book  Sixth — Faith    Triumphant.  171 

Thus  full  of  years  and  lionors,  full  of  peace, 
He  closed  bis  quiet  uueventful  life. 

Fit  represeutati\e  of  all  our  race, 

He  brought  the  curse  of  heaven  ux)on  us  all. 

Our  real  pi'obation  was  in  him  fulfilled. 

In  hi  in  we  stood  and  fell.     The  dread  decree 

That  "  dj'ing  thou  shalt  die,"  "passed  on  us  all," 

"Because  that  all  bad  sinned."'     No  further  hope 

Eemains  for  us  in  our  own  righteousness 

(Enoch  himself  was  saved  by  faith  alone). 

But  though  his  guilt  seemed  great,  still  greater  far 

Appears  in  him  the  mercy  of  the  Lord, 

And  all  his  tender  care  for  those  he  loves. 

And  in  him  too  we  read,  epitomised, 

The  history  of  human  life  on  earth. 

He  sinned  and  sorrowed,  lived  so  many  years, 

Had  several  sons  and  daughters,  then  he  died. 

But  oh,  how  great  the  contrast  in  his  death, 

With  that  of  him  who  represents  our  life  ! 

Soon  as  his  struggling  spirit  bursts  its  bonds, 
Emerging  from  the  darkness  of  the  flesh 
Into  the  liglit  of  supernatural  realms. 
He  sees,  astonished,  angel  spirits  stand 
Awaiting  his  release,  with  tender  love. 
Even  as  parents,  and  attendant  friends 
Await  the  advent  of  a  new  born  babe. 
The  friends  receiving  his  farewell  to  earth 
Stand  filled  with  grief,  and  woe  and  solemn  awe, 
With  freely  flowing  tears,  and  sighs,  and  moans; 


1 72  Bionopsis. 

But  those  wlio  welcome  him  to  brighter  worlds 
Greet  him  with  joy,  and  view  his  mourning  friends 
With  smiles  of  pity,  such  as  parents  give 
When  tiny  fingers,  lifted  to  their  view 
Disi)lay  some  little  hurt,  scarce  visible, 
While  flowing  tears  bespeak  their  sympathy. 

Now,  with  his  parting  spirit,  let  us  rise 
To  loftier  outlook  than  the  loftiest  height 
Of  this  sub-lunar  scene. 

O  blessed  soul! 
Set  free  from  shadows,  forms  of  flesh  which  hid 
Substantial  entities,  and  oft  deceived 
The  very  wisest  of  the  worldly  wise, 
Engaging  all  their  thoughts  with  earthly  things, 
That  soon  must  crumble  to  the  earth  again 
(E'en  as  the  clouds  dissolve  and  disappear. 
Or  shadows  vanish  with  surrounding  light), 
While  Heaven's  enduring  verities,  forgot, 
Were  counted  unrealities, — and  lost! — 
Set  free  from  sin  and  sorrow,  evermore. 
Admitted  now  to  God's  own  presence  bright. 
From  whom  all  shadows  flee  away  abashed, 
Thou  here,  at  last,  hast  entered  into  light! 

Triumphant,  happy  soul !  now  purified 

From  every  stain,  set  free  from  close  restraint 

Of  fleshly  cerements  of  pain  and  death, 

And  vivified  with  true  celestial  fire, 

Thou  now  canst  "see  and  know  as  thou  art  known," 

Thou  now  may'st  reach  the  very  highest  source 


Book  Sixth — F'aitli    Ti  iioiipliant.  173 

Of  truest  life,  which  thou  didst  wisely  choose, 
And  diligently  seek  through  life  on  earth. 
But  who  can  venture  to  you  rapturous  heights, 
Save  those  from  gross  mortality  disrobed, 
And  purified  from  every  taint  of  sin  ? 

Awe  struck,  yet  filled  with  wonder  and  delight 
AVe  stand  afar,  and  view  the  amazing  scene! 

What  overwhelming  glories  greet  our  eyes ! 

Behold  the  "innumerable  company" 

Of  white  robed  angels,  with  their  glistening  wings! 

O'er  spreading  all  the  vast  expanse  of  heaven, 

A  glorious  galaxy  of  blending  lights, 

Enmasscd,  like  summer  clouds,  all  white  and  grand, 

"With  gleaming  splendor  of  reflected  rays, 

Proceeding  from  the  central  vault  of  heaven ! 

Whence  this  effulgence,  more  than  men  can  bear ! 

So  dazzling  bright,  so  "  unaccessible," 

So  "full  of  glory,"  that  the  mind  is  lost! 

The  while  our  soul  lies  prostrate  and  adores ! 

Lost  to  our  eyes,  yon  happy  soul  flies  on, 

His  convoy  bright  but  for  a  moment  seen, 

Then  swallowed  in  the  light  ineffable 

Which  flows  from  Him  who  sits  upon  the  throne ! 

^  ^  >K  >fc  ^  :fc 

What  mortal  mind  can  pierce  yon  vale  of  light. 
Or  dimly  guess  the  blessedness  of  him 
Who  now  receives  the  welcome  of  his  Lord? 
Forgotten,  for  a  reason,  quite  forgot. 
All  lesser  joys,  affections,  raptures,  hopes! 


174  Bionopsh. 

The  great  concerns  of  time  all  vanisli  now ! 
Enough  that  God  is  found!  and  ''God  is  love!" 

Enraptured  soul !  the  dearest  love  of  earth, 

The  truest,  purest,  strongest,  sweetest,  best, 

Was  but  a  feeble  type  of  this  great  love 

Which  still  transcends  the  power  of  mind  and  heart ! 

O  depth  unfathomable !  height  unseen ! 

Immeasurable  breadth !  and  length  beyond 

The  utmost  range  of  highest  human  thought ! 

Unfolded  now  part  of  the  mystery 

Of  God's  eternal  love,  to  be  revealed 

To  wondering  sons  of  men  in  coming  years, 

Thou    see'st,   with  heart  o'erwhelmed  (what  God 

declares 
Shall  surely  come  to  pass),  both  God  and  man 
In  union  strange  and  sweet!     Thy  promised  Son, 
"The  Son  of  Man,"  the  very  "Son  of  God!" 
And  in  a  lesser  sense,  yet  full  of  bliss, 
Thou  see'st  his  saved  ones,  also  sons  of  God ! 
Exalted  soul,  couldst  thou  now  tell  thy  sons 
The  undiscoverable  truth  of  God, 
Now  made  so  plain  to  thee,  methinks  that  all 
Should  turn  their  backs  on  earth,  their  hearts  towards 

heaven ! 
Yet  better  testimony  they  reject, 
"Eefusing  him  who  spake  (for  God)  on  earth. 
They  turn  away  from  him  who  speaks  from  heaven," 
And  even  scoin  the  Incarnate  Word  of  God!! 

Awhile  we  wait  and  wonder,  at  our  jiost, 


Book  Sixf/i — l-'aitli    'rritunpliant.  175 

While  bappj'  spirits  pass  and  oft  repass, 
When,  issuing-  from  the  glory,  we  perceive 
And  recognize  our  father's  soul  once  more 
Bent  on  some  happy  errand  he  appears, 
Still  led  by  bright  angelic  messengers. 
A  more  ethereal  essence  his,  than  theirs. 
And  still  he  needs  their  tutelage  and  care. 

Convoyed  by  them  he  seeks  a  happy  group 
Of  spirits  like  his  own,  redeemed  from  Earth, 
"The  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect"  now. 

But  scarce  does  he  appear  in  sight,  when,  lo ! 
The  fairest  one  (though  all  are  beautiful), 
Leaving  the  rest,  with  eager  happy  haste. 
Comes  like  a  beam  of  light,  to  welcome  him. 
Reflected  in  his  count' nance,  beautified, 
And  all  suffused  with  heavenly  lustre,  glows 
The  pure  and  holy  joy  that  fills  his  soul. 

O  happy,  happy  pair !     Safe,  safe  at  home ! 
Ne'er  to  be  parted  more,  not  e'en  by  death, 
Nor  any  disagreement,  mutual  doubt. 
Misunderstanding,  pique,  nor  any  lapse  of  love, 
They  now  renew  a  sweet  relationship ! 
Not  now,  as  once  of  yore,  exclusive  ties. 
Depending  on  conditions  of  the  earth 
(Though  sweet  the  slavery  of  these  earthly  bonds, 
And  tempting  oft  to  undue  love,  supreme), 
But  one  which  brings  them  nearer  still  to  God. 
They  "marry  not,  nor  give  in  marriage"  now. 


1 76  Bionopsis. 

For,  "wedded  to  one  husband,"  in  the  bonds 
Of  purest  love,  and  sweetest  confidence, 
"Where  green-eyed  jealousy  no  more  can  sting, 
They,  like  the  angels,  give  their  love  to  God, 
Their  earthly  love  was  but  a  type  of  this. 

And  yet  peculiar  friendships  still  exist, 

Though  that  dear  word  seems  tame  and  cold  to  tell 

The  new  relationships  of  sacred  love, 

Most  pure  and  tender,  intimate  and  sweet, 

That  bind  congenial  spirits  here  in  Heaven. 

All,  all,  indeed,  are  found  congenial  here. 

And  all,  of  every  tribe,  are  one  in  Christ. 

Yet  there  are  ranks  and  orders,  yea,  we  find 

Each  soul  distinct,  and  only  like  itself, 

With  character  and  beauty  all  its  own, 

As  "one  star  differs  from  another  star 

In  glory,"  or  the  flowers,  in  all  their  tribes. 

Differ,  though  beauteous  all.     So  mystic  ties 

Of  spirit  friendship  still  bind  loving  souls. 

And  revelations,  too,  are  often  made 

Between  those  souls,  who  by  God's  providence 

Were  bound  on  Earth,  yet  knew  each  other  not. 

Ah,  glad  surjjrises  there  shall  be  in  heaven ! 

Not  that  the  bonds  once  loosed  by  welcome  death 

Are  riveted  again.     All,  all  are  free. 

Yet,  as  the  various  chords  of  music  blend 

In  one  sweet  harmony,  or  as  the  stars 

Conjoin  to  light  one  happy  traveler, 

Or  as  the  members  of  one  family 

Together  dwell,  in  puiest,  sweetest  love, 


Book  Sixth — Faith    Triumphant.  177 

So  dwell,  in  haiinony,  the  blest  in  heaven; 

While  each  may  find  some  choicest  friendships  there. 

We  may  not  now  describe  the  outlook  held 

By  Adam  and  his  company  towards  Earth, 

Nor  by  what  means  the  tidings  are  conveyed 

Of  all  the  strange  events  that  happen  there, 

Nor  how  they  even  witness  for  themselves 

The  wondrous  drama,  as  upon  a  stage, 

Within  their  easy  ken.     But  w^e  perceive 

They  lose  not  interest  in  the  earth's  affairs, 

On  which  "the  angels  still  desire  to  look," 

And  God  himself  surveys  with  deep  concern, 

But  often  from  the  heavenly  glories  turn, 

To  view  their  earthly  friends,  and  mark  the  course 

Of  human  life. 

But  dost  thou  doubt  their  power! 
How  canst  thou  doubt,  since  from  the  very  clouds 
The  modern  Sage  allured  a  messenger, 
So  swift,  so  sure,  so  subtle  and  so  strong, 
That  once  'twas  deemed  the  weapon  of  God's  wrath! 
Yet  moderns  send  it  on  their  messages. 
And  teach  the  tiny  threads  to  thrill  with  thought. 
And,  earlier  still,  a  simple  artisan 
Had  found  the  key  t'  unlock  the  depths  of  space, 
And  view  the  secrets  of  the  stellar  worlds. 

Not  through  such  slender  cords  departed  souls 
Their  swift  intelligence  receive  from  Earth, 
Or,  through  such  instruments  as  men  devise, 
Obtain  their  panoramic  vicMS  of  life. 


178  Bionopsis. 

Not  theirs  omniscience,  to  discern  the  whole, 
Even  of  what  this  little  planet  sliows 
Of  him  whose  "judgments  are  unsearchable," 
To  make,  redeem  or  rule  the  sons  of  men. 
But  vaster  far  their  knowledge  of  the  world 
Than  all  the  wondrous  modern  x)ress  convej^s. 
Each  act  on  earth  a  flash  of  light  reveals 
(Nor  can  the  darkness  ever  hide  from  God), 
And  every  breath  of  sound  whispers  abroad 
Earth's  secrets  through  all  spiiitual  realms. 

Say  not  our  atmosphere  must  limits  fix 

To  uttered  thought, — that  sound  must  ride  on  wav(^s, 

And  dies  away  in  air.     Denied  is  this 

By  one  who  reasons  well,  with  other  claims 

Of  theorists  who  vaunt  themselves  the  friends 

Of  certain  scientific  truth,  but  teach 

Their  own  Inventions  to  the  credulous. 

And  so  one  generation  rightly  deems 

The  science  of  the  past,  "falsely  so  called." 

But  this  we  know,  "for  every  idle  word 

That  men  shall  speak,  they  give  account  to  God.'' 

Come  join  we  now  this  groui),  and  view  with  them 
The  course  of  human  life. 

Lo,  one  by  one, 
Like  ancient  land-marks,  i^atriarchs  pass  away ! 
What  strange  diversity  in  human  life! 
Some,  opening  for  a  few  brief  days,  their  eyes. 


Book  Sixth — Faith   Triumphant,  179 

With  Avouder  catch  a  fleetiug  glimpse  of  life 
(Uucomprehended,  incompletely  shared), 
And  then  pass  forth  to  mysteries  beyond. 
With  not  less  wonder  those  they  leave  behind 
Ask  "  why  come  they  at  all  ?  or  go  so  soon  I " 

But  others  serve  through  all  the  weary  war, 
And  when  their  battle's  o'er,  they  linger  on, 
And  linger  on,  until  they  long  to  go  ! 

Contemplate  now,  in  few  successive  scenes. 

The  great  events  of  human  history. 

Behold  we  first,  that  dread  catastrophe. 

Most  awful  in  the  annals  of  all  time. 

Which  swept  away,  at  once,  the  race  of  man ! 

O  dreadful  judgment  of  offended  Heaven ! 

O'erwhelming  all  the  eai-th  in  ruin  dire  ! 

O'erwhelming    too  our  thoughts,    and  shuddering 

hearts  ! 
How  cnn  imagination's  trembling  hand 
Depict  the  scene?     How  can  our  fainting  souls 
Endure  the  dreadful  sight  ?  my  blood  runs  cold. 
E'en  from  a  glimpse,  at  distance  most  remote, 
Of  woe  and  desolation  so  complete ! 
Lo,  on  the  billows  of  a  shoreless  sea. 
The  solitary  ark  !  the  world's  last  hope! 
A  fragment  of  the  universal  wreck ! 
It  diifts  at  mercy  of  the  pelting  storm, 
Without  a  rudder,  pilot,  chart  or  port ! 
The  swash  of  surging  seas  against  its  sides, 
With  wild  and  woeful  wailings  of  the  winds. 


i8o  Bionopsis. 

The  only  requiems  of  a  buried  world ! 
All  nature  wears  the  drapery  of  woe, 
A  trailing,  cloudy  vail,  of  deepest  black. 
O  weary  waste  of  waves,  O  vast  expanse, 
How  lonelj'^,  empty,  desolate  and  drear ! 
How  tedious  in  your  sameness  !  yet  how  dread 
In  all  devouring  greed  t'  engulf  a  world ! 
What  dreadful  secrets  in  your  bosom  lie ! 
What  treasures  rare  in  your  remorseless  depths  ! 
Your  greatest  treasure  now,  a  ruined  world ! 
Our  fancy  peers  beneath  your  inky  waves. 
What  desolation  vast  appals  the  sight ! 
Cities,  and  towns,  and  cultivated  fields. 
All  rife  with  human  industry  and  art. 
And  desert  wastes  with  scarce  a  traveler ; 
Temples  of  pleasure,  penal  cells  of  crime  ; 
Well  crowded  streets,  and  lonely  hermit  caves ; 
The  haunts  of  drones,  and  busy  factories ; 
The  homes  of  love  and  luxury  and  wealth, 
And  wretched  huts  of  grimy  poverty  ; 
Embattled  hosts,  and  fondly  loving  swains  ; 
Gay  festive  companies,  and  funeral  trains ; 
The  great  and  small ;  those  bent  with  hoary  age. 
And  little  infants  in  their  mothers'  arms  ; 
Young  men  and  maidens ;  merry  children  ; — all. 
All  sunk  in  one  o'erwhelming  wave  of  woe  ! 

But  dost  thou  doubt ;    Dost  shudder  at  the  thought 
And  say  "  this  cannot  be,  for  God  is  good ! " 
Lo,  Herculaneum,  and  Pompeii ! 
Perpetual  monuments  of  sudden  wi'ath, 


Book  Sixth — Faitli    I'riuuipJtant.  i8l 

Or  vengeance  long  delayed,  but  swift  at  last. 
Ah,  darker  ruin  than  the  liquid  depths 
First  overwhelmed  the  wretched  sons  of  men. 
The  floods  of  sin, — a  surge  of  wickedness, 
Which  issued  from  the  very  depths  of  Hell, 
Swept  o'er  a  guilty  world,  and  filled  the  hearts 
Of  those  who  madly  turned  away  from  God ! 

"And  were  no  lamentations  heard  in  heaven?" 

Methinks  'twas  God's  own  hand  that  wiped  away 

The  tears  from  saintly  eyes.     And  God  himself 

"  Was  grieved  at  heart,"  His  own  works  brought 

him  grief, 
Though  works  of  wisdom,  goodness,  power  and  love. 

But  dost  thou  ask 

"  How  could  the  '  Lord  repent 
That  ever  he  had  made  man  on  the  eaith ' 
As  seems  his  word  to  teach? " 

'Tis  safe  to  say 
It  caused  him  deep  regret /or  man^s  own  sake 
(At  least  for  those  who  scorned  his  saving  power). 
His  work  the  cause,  not  subject  of  regret. 
('Tis  thus  the  judge  with  grief  the  sentence  speaks 
Even  of  those  most  justly  doomed  to  death.) 
Or  if  the  act  itself  were  also  mourned, 
Which  being  gave  to  souls  foredoomed  to  death, 
It  was  as  one  might  mourn  who  comes  to  bring 
Glad  tidings  of  salvation  to  the  lost, 
But  knows,  full  well,  that  some  will  hear  to  scorn, 
And  bring  upon  themselves  still  deejjer  woe. 


1 82  Bionopsis. 

Now  let  us  humbly  learn  the  lessons  i)lam, 

The  fatal  folly  to  presume  too  far 

On  God's  forebearance  in  a  course  of  sin. 

(And  is't  not  folly  to  presume  at  all  f) 

The  empty  hope  God  cannot  whelm  the  world, — 

And  yet  the  mercy  of  a  patient  God, 

And  wondrous  grace  to  all  who  trust  his  word. 

Noah  with  faith,  which  in  a  Godless  world 

Appears  sublime,  devotes  his  years  of  toil, 

His  reputation,  fortune,  friendships,  all 

To  do  the  work  of  faith  and  hope  towards  God. 

He  gains  his  blest  reward;  and  in  the  ark 

Safe  shut  by  God's  own  hand,  with  those  he  loves, 

The  object  of  his  Father's  tend'rest  care, 

Amidst  the  whirl  of  overwhelming  wrath, 

Eides  out  the  storm.     Faith  triumphs  over  floods. 

This  scene  is  past !    A  new  world  now  appears 
Emerging  from  the  ruins  of  the  first. 
The  bow  of  promise  spans  the  heaven's  wide  arch, 
Dark  muttering  wrath  retires  in  distant  clouds, 
Bounty  sheds  forth  her  stores  of  life  and  light. 
While  gentle  mercy  leads  her  precious  chai-ge 
Forth  from  the  ark,  with  peace  and  sounding  joy, 
And  sweet  faced  hope  invites  to  new  emprize. 
All  things  conspire  to  point  man's  soul  to  God, 
To  teach  him  gratitude,  and  trustful  faith, 
Obedience,  and  piety,  and  love. 

But  soon,  alas,  the  Tempter's  hand,  once  more, 
Betrays  its  working  in  the  hearts  of  men. 


Book  Sixth — Faith    Triumphant.  183 

Behold  the  builders !  laboring  hard  (in  vain) 
To  build  without  the  blessing  of  the  Lord. 
God  had  declared 

"Be  fruitful,  multiply, 
Replenish  all  the  earth,  subdue  all  things, 
And  have  dominion  over  all," 

But  men 
Distrust  the  truth  and  wisdom  of  their  God, 
More  anxious  far  to  "make  themselves  a  name," 
And  build  themselves  a  lasting  home  on  earth. 
Than  magnify  God's  name,  deserve  his  praise, 
Fulfil  their  destiny  divine  on  earth, 
And  find  at  last  their  Father's  home  above. 

And  so  they  say  ''Go  to,  and  let  us  build 
A  city  and  a  tower  whose  top  shall  reach 
Towards  heaven,  a  sign  of  unity  and  power, 
A  centre  in  the  illimitable  plain, 
"  Lest  we  be  scattered  all  abroad  on  earth.' ' 

O  foolish  builders  !     Wise  your  earthly  schemes 
Were  there  no  God  to  call  you  to  account. 
But  God  forgotten,  ne'er  forgets  his  will, 
Which,  long  despised,  shall  sure  x)revail  at  last. 

In  vain  ye  now  unite !     Your  mighty  schemes 

How  petty  in  God's  sight,  whose  plans  embrace 

Eternity,  e'en  to  eternity  ! 

His  gifts  ye  now  abuse,  mysterious  speech 

(Destined  to  bring,  through  interchange  of  thought 

All  men  into  a  union  strong  and  sweet). 

And  reason  (given  for  counsels  wise  and  good !) 


184  Bionopsis. 

"  Your  rulers  counsel  take  against  the  Lord, 
To  break  his  bands  asunder,"  e'en  those  bands 
"Which  bind  their  souls  in  peace  and  love  to  him. 
Ah,  what  if  God  reclaim  his  precious  gifts  % 
Nay.    Great  his  mercy  in  the  midst  of  wrath. 
But  dire  confusion  falls  on  all  their  plans, 
And  e'en  their  very  tongues! — 

Behold  them  stand 
Astonished  and  perplexed !  each  workman  views 
His  comrade  suddenly  transformed,  in  speech, 
Into  a  babbler,  and  a  foreigner ! 
And  hardly  certain  of  his  mother  tongue. 
He  scarce  remembers  most  familiar  words! 

Ah,  different  far  the  time  when  God  shall  come 
To  grant  his  spirit  to  the  prayers  of  men, 
When,  "in  one  place,"  and  joined  "in  one  accord," 
They  meet  to  build  His  kingdom,  and  jjroclaim 
That  name  so  far  above  all  earthly  names. 
From  every  clime  and  every  tongue  and  tribe 
The  men,  with  wonder,  hear  in  their  own  tongues 
The  amazing  grace,  and  "wondrous  works  of  God." 

But  lo,  a  nearer  contrast  greets  our  eyes. 
Abram,  amidst  an  unbelieving  world, 
Eeceives  the  titles  high,  a  "  Friend  of  God," 
The  "Father  of  the  Faithful,"  for  all  time. 
Unlike  the  Babel  Builders,  going  forth, 
At  God's  command,  from  kindred,  home,  and  Iriends, 
And  certain  dwelling  place,  to  dwell  in  tents, 
He  seeks  a  better  country,  and  a  home 


Book  Sixth— Faith    TjiiDiiphant.  185 

More  sure  and  safe  than  Babel  Builders  dreamed, 
A  city  broad  and  high,  not  one  "  whose  top 
Should  reach  to  heaven,"   but  whose  foundation 

strong 
Is  planted  there,  and  laid  by  God  himself! 

"Its  builder  and  its  maker,  God,"  it  shines 

In  his  own  light,  and  with  him  shall  endure. 

In  honor  of  a  faith  so  true  and  tried 

The  Lord  a  sure  and  lasting  covenant  made 

With  Abram  and  his  seed,  for  coming  time, 

That  they  should  be  ''his  people,''  "He  their  God," 

And  yet  still  more  he  tried  his  faith  and  love. 

He  even  promised,  in  his  childless  age. 

That  in  his  seed  all  nations  should  be  blessed : 

Of  many  nations,  too,  that  he  should  be 

The  honored  father,  in  the  years  to  come. 

And    yet    (scarce    grown)  this  promised  son   was 

claimed. 
At  Abraham's  own  hand,  in  sacrifice! 
Oh,  height  of  faith,  and  trustful  love  to  God ! 
"He  spared  not  his  own  son,  but  gave  him  up" 
As  due  to  God,  since  he  had  claimed  his  own ; 
Yet  "trusted"  still  that  God  would  "raise  him  up 
E'en  from  the  dead,"  nor  was  his  faith  deceived. 
Oh,  type  divine  of  God's  more  wondrous  love, 
"Who  freely  gave  his  own  Beloved  Son, 
To  ransom  those  whose  only  claim  was  wrath. 

Unworldly  man  of  God !  content  to  dwell 
A  pilgrim  stranger  here,  thy  filial  faith, 


1 86  Bionopsis. 

Not  seeking  earth's  rewards,  but  heavenly  grace, 
Hath  won  the  highest  blessings  earth  can  yield, 
Beyond  all  learning,  genius,  skill  or  power, 
Hath  made  thy  name  renowned  through  all  the  earth. 
And  riches  too  and  high  respect  and  power 
Were  thy  rewards.     But,  better  far  than  all, 
God's  gracious  favor,  which  thy  soul  hath  found 
Is  "life,''  his  loving  kindness  more  than  life." 

Ye  men  of  Earth  in  vain  ye  toil  and  strive 
Against  the  will  of  Heaven.     If  God  denies 
The  boons  of  earth  ye  prize  above  his  grace, 
They  'scape  your  grasp ;  or  if  he  grants  your  wish 
"Without  his  blessing,  they  may  curses  prove, 
To  cheat  your  souls  of  his  divine  reward. 

The  years  roll  on.     Lo !  Jacob,  in  his  grief, 
A  fugitive  from  Esau's  dreaded  wrath. 
Lonely  and  homeless  in  the  wilderness, 
Looks  from  his  hard  unsheltered  couch  to  God. 
Adown  the  shining  stairway  angels  haste 
To  bring  him  comfort,  and  to  show  how  near 
To  earthly  exiles  is  the  heavenly  home. 
And  shining  ones,  earth  born,  look  fondly  down 
And  wait  to  welcome  soon  the  wanderer  home. 

A  few  j^ears  more!  we  see  the  youth  again. 

Who  went  forth,  poor  and  lonely,  with  his  staff, 

Eeturn  a  patriarch,  rich  with  familj'  trains. 

And  flocks  and  herds.     But  now  with  greater  dread, 

Not  for  himself,  but  those  he  loves  e'en  more. 

He  hears  that  Esau's  war-like  bands  approach. 


Book  Sixth — Faith    Triumphant.  187 

We  who  from  loftier  heights  can  see  the  end, 
May  smile  to  see  the  deep  distress  and  woe 
That  fill  the  patriarch's  breast.    But  very  soon 
Faith  triumi^hs  over  fears,  and  dangers  too, 
For  Jacob  knows  the  "secret  of  the  Lord," 
And  wrestles,  not  with  Esau,  but  with  one 
Of  mightier  power,  and  finally  prevails. 
He  wins  the  mighty  name  of  Israel. 

And  now  see  Josejih  in  his  prison  cell. 
Friendless  and  hopeless,  hoped  he  not  in  God 
Betrayed  bj^  his  own  brethren,  and  abused 
And  wronged  because  to  truth  and  virtue  true. 

Did  bitterness  towards  man,  distrust  towards  God, 

Or  dark  despair  towards  his  own  soul  prevail? 

No!  more  than  conqueror,  through  faith  divine. 

Which  firmly  held  God's  promise  from  his  youth, 

Amidst  the  darkness  of  his  own  deep  night. 

He  shed  forth  light,  which  blessed  his  fellow-men, 

And  when  his  faith  had  stood  the  sorest  test, 

It  gained  a  great  and  marvelous  reward. 

He  saw  his  dreams  most  wondrously  fulfilled ! 

(More  glorious  still  faith's  great  rewards  in  heaven  I) 

The  centuries  like  seasons  pass  away. 

Behold  a  nation  long  in  thraldom  held, 

Yet  "heirs  of  promise,"  "seed  of  Abraham," 

And  objects  of  the  covenant  loA^e  of  God ! 

Ah,  cruel  is  the  bondage  they  endure ! 

Like  beasts  of  burden,  scourged  to  thankless  ta&ks, 


1 88  Bionopsis. 

They  drag  out  lives  more  bitter  far  tlian  death. 

Is  it  in  righteous  judgment  for  the  sin 

Of  those  who  heard  not  their  own  brother's  cry 

But  for  a  price  betrayed  to  alien  hands? 

O  monstrous  sin!  great  is  thy  punishment! 

But  now,  at  last,  God  hears  their  bitter  cry. 

He  shows  himself  almighty  to  redeem, 

E'en  from  the  cruel  slavery  of  sin. 

He  raises  up  a  prophet  truly  great, 

And  worthy  to  lead  forth  his  captive  hosts. 

O  wondrous  faith  of  holy  men  of  God! 

(  xlpplaudiug  angels  view  with  great  delight 

Thou  sacred  principle  of  life  divine! 

What  mighty  deeds,  what  victories  o'er  self, 

And  o'er  the  world,  and  all  the  assaults  of  hell, 

Thy  mighty  power  hath  nerved  men  to  achieve ! 

What  noble  virtues  thou  hast  wrought  in  men! 

What  love  to  God,  what  happy  trust,  what  hope 

In  darkest  hours,  what  patience,  courage,  strength. 

What  cheerful  zeal  to  do  God's  holy  will. 

What  charity  to  all  the  human  race! 

What  readiness  in  sacrifice  to  yield 

The  dearest  loves  and  proudest  hopes  on  earth ! 

So  Moses,  reared  in  Pharaoh's  court  a  prince, 
With  Joseph's  fame  before  him,  might  have  won 
A  prouder  place,  and  ruled  as  Egypt's  king. 
But  faith  prevailed.     He  chose  a  humbler  sphere. 
Content  to  suffer  with  the  saints  on  earth. 
If  he  might  find  with  them  the  living  God. 


Book  SixtJi — Faith-    T>iiniip/ianL  189 

He  turned  from  false  religion's  flattering  hojies, 

And  all  the  honors  of  the  royal  court, 

And  "chose  reproach,"  with   slaves   desi)ised  and 

wronged, 
"Eefusing  to  be  called ''  proud  Pharoah's  son, 
Preferring  Heaven  to  brief  career  of  sin. 
But  God  had  joys  and  honors  higher  far 
Than  Pharaoh  ever  knew,  wherewith  to  crown 
The  faith  of  one,  who  truly  honored  God. 
Behold  the  flaming  bush,  yet  unconsunied, 
Whence  God  to  Moses  spake  his  holy  name. 
The  wilderness,  henceforth,  no  more  appeared 
An  awful  solitude;  but  God  himself 
Drew  very  near,  and  made  it  holy  ground, 
The  trysting  place  between  his  soul  and  God. 
O  haj)py  spot  where  man  doth  find  his  Lord, 
In  desert  wastes,  or  in  cathedrals  filled 
"With  prostrate  worshippers;  in  humblest  hut. 
Or  j)alace  grand;  closet  or  crowded  streets; 
In  glorious  temple  at  Jerusalem, 
Or  by  despised  Samaria's  humble  well. 
And  there  is  life !  all  else  the  realm  of  death! 

Yet  God  doth  wait  to  show  himself  to  men. 

He  all  things  with  his  holy  presence  fills, 

And  through  all  things  makes  known  himself  to 

those 
Of  humble  mind,  who  truly  seek  their  God. 
Oh,  happy  eyes,  that,  in  his  wondrous  works. 
Behold  the  beauties  of  his  majesty ! 
(While  those  who  seek  not,  see,  yet  not  perceive.) 


I  go  Bionopsis. 

But  most  distinguisliecl  favor  his  Avho  saw, 
Willi  his  own  eyes,  the  glory  of  the  Lord, 
And  heard,  with  his  own  ears,  his  awful  voice. 
Him  God  commissioned  for  a  mighty  work, 
To  free  his  kindred  from  their  cruel  yoke, 
And  lead  a  proud  and  mighty  nation  forth 
To  glory,  liberty,  and  light  divine. 
Yea,  more  (Oh,  better  far  than  one  brief  reign 
On  Egypt's  crumbling  throne),  'twas  his  to  stand 
On  Sinai's  mount,  and  thence  convey  from  God 
That  holy  law  which  binds  the  human  race! 
And  yet  still  more,  'twas  his  to  typify 
The  King  himself,  the  a  ery  Son  of  God, 
"A  proi)het  like  to  him"  whom  God  should  raise 
To  teach,  to  guide,  to  rule,  to  intercede, 
And  lead  his  peojile  to  the  promised  land. 

A  single  life  of  such  illustrious  faith 
Eedeems  a  nation,  and  illumes  an  age. 
But  he  who  toils  God's  word  to  render  void, 
With  learning,  genius,  wit,  or  eloquence. 
Weakness  and  worthlessness  shall  find  them  all 
Compared  with  faith,  and  fruitless  of  all  good. 
Oblivion  is  his  spirit's  highest  hope. 
Or  fame  to  which  oblivion's  gloom  is  light. 
He  maketh  e'en  "his  memory  to  rot." 
Were  human  life  confined  to  this  brief  stage, 
Vain  were  the  noblest  lessons  of  the  past. 
And  Epi(!urus  then  were  truly  wise, 
"Ensure  the  passing  moment  for  thyself," 
Let  others  labor  for  the  human  weal. 


Book  Sixth — Faith    Triumphant.  191 

And  for  the  future  grandly  do  and  dare. 
The  great  Lawgiver  was  a  fool  sublime, 
And  thou  art  wise,  only,  when,  like  a  worm, 
Thou  crawlest  close  to  earth,  and  grovelest  deep, 
Content  to  perish  like  a  worm  at  last. 

O  chosen  race  of  God !  what  wondrous  deeds 

Of  Heaven's  amazing  grace  were  wrought  for  thee! 

Not  for  thy  virtue  or  thy  faithfulness, 

But  from  the  depths  of  God's  eternal  love 

And  covenant  truth.     He  chooseth  all  liis  sons, 

And  to  his  glorious  image  fashioneth 

Their  souls  alike.     He  fi-om  the  "  very  stones 

Can  raise  uj)  children  unto  Abraham." 

But  those  who  scorn  his  grace  he  lifteth  up 

To  heights  of  fame  and  power  to  throw  them  down 

To  depths  of  shame.     He  even  makes  their  wrath 

To  praise  his  name.    Thus  Pharaoh  and  his  hosts 

Called  forth  God's  power,  and  showed  his  faithful 

ness. 
Both  to  redeem  his  own,  and  crush  his  foes. 

God  led  his  people  through  the  wilderness, 

And  showed  them  wondrous  signs  and  mighty  deeds. 

He  fed  them  day  by  day  with  bread  from  heaven 

(Save  on  the  sixth  he  gave  them  two  days'  food. 

The  seventh  none,  to  sanctify  the  day). 

He  kept  their  raiment  that  it  waxed  not  old. 

And  caused  the  smitten  rock  with  streams  to  flow, 

And  gave  them  victory  o'er  desert  foes. 

But  more  than  all,  from  Sinai's  flaming  mount. 


192  Bionopsis. 

In  thunder  tones  lie  spake  his  righteous  law, 
And  gave  them  all  his  holy  oracles. 

For  forty  years  they  saw  his  mighty  works, 

But  "tempted,  proved,  and  grieved"  their  patient 

Lord, 
And  (oh,  sad  thought,  which  all  should  take  to  heart) 
They  missed  the  promised  land  through  unbelief. 
Oh,  trembling  heart !  weigh  well  this  solemn  tale, 
"  Lest  unto  thee  a  j)romise  being  left," 
Of  yet  more  glorious  rest,  thou  too,  at  last, 
Should  even  "seem,"  through  unbelief,"  to  fail. 
And,  loving  earth  too  well,  "come  short"  of  Heaven  ! 

Yet  some  were  found  who  faithful  proved,  and  true, 
And  even  on  the  pilgrimage  were  born 
Those  who  believed,  and  "entered  into  rest." 

Thus,  in  epitome,  we  read  the  tale 

Of  human  life,  through  this  world-wilderness. 

Moses  and  Aaron  yield  their  lives  to  Heaven, 
And  other  warriors  rise  to  serve  their  God. 
See  Joshua,  leading  on  God's  conquering  sons, 
Great  type  of  Jesus  in  his  name  and  deeds. 
Strong  in  the  Lord  of  hosts,  and  in  his  might, 
Great  in  his  valor,  greater  still  in  faith. 
Lo,  Jordan's  waves  an  over  flowing  flood, 
Eolled  back  at  their  approach  ;  behold  the  walls 
Of  Jericho  obey  their  trumpets'  sound ; 
The  sun  stands  still  o'er  Gibeon,  the  moon 
Above  the  valley  of  Ajalon  waits  5 


Book  Sixth — Faith    I'yiuuiphatit.  193 

Aud  God,  to  make  their  vict'ry  more  complete, 
Eains  death  from  heaven  upon  their  impious  foes. 

But  time  would  fail  to  tell  the  illustrious  names 

Of  all  the  glorious  host,  who  lived  by  faith, 

Who  triumphed  over  Satan,  sin,  and  self, 

And  vanquished  death,  and  won  eternal  life. 

Behold  the  noble  comi)any  of  saints, 

Who,  honoring  God,  by  trusting  all  his  words, 

Have  gained  the  praise  they  ijrized,  which  comes 

from  God. 
About  the  forms  of  those  who  walk  with  him 
A  halo  glows  of  glorious  heavenly  light, 
Which  shines  effulgent  through  the  mists  of  time, 
And,  like  the  stars,  high  in  the  vault  of  heaven, 
On  latest  generations  sheds  its  rays. 

Prophets,  and  heroes,  priests  and  pious  kings. 
And  holy  women  too,  who  loved  their  Lord, 
Apostles,  martyrs  and  confessors  join 
To  glorify  their  God,  and  seek  his  face. 
We  view  with  gladness  from  our  lofty  height 
Their  glorious  victories  o'er  sin  and  death, 
And,  as  each  conqueror  seeks  his  heavenly  rest. 
We  join  the  rapturous  shouts  of  "  Welcome  home!'' 

And  still  they  come,  from  every  realm  and  clime, 
From  every  nation  he  that  feareth  God, 
And  worketh  righteousness  acceptance  finds. 

But  lo,  the  mighty  multitude  who  turn 
Away  from  God,  and  from  his  heavenly  rest, 
Believing  not  the  true  and  living  God, 
13 


194  Bionopsis. 

And  caring  naught  for  liigli  and  holy  truth, 

Nor  for  that  pure  and  blest  "  inheritance 

Reserved  for  those  kept  by  God's  power  through 

faith." 
"Their  God  their  belly,  glorying  in  their  shame, 
And  minding  earthly  things,"  they  forfeit  Heaven, 
And  find  their  doom  with  those  that  know  not  God 
Oh,  wretched  doom,  endurable  on  earth, 
While  mercy  yet  endured,  and  God  still  sought 
To  win  by  kindness  hard  unthankful  hearts, 
"Making  his  sun  to  rise"  alike  on  all, 
"  The  evil  and  the  good,  and  sending  rain 
Upon  the  unjust  even  as  the  just." 
But  Oh,  the  '•'■  wrath  of  God!  "  who  can  endure? 
How  dreadful  even  in  a  world  of  hope ! 
Unutterably  dread  in  yon  dark  world, 
Where  hope  and  mercy  never  more  can  come ! 

It  need  not  be  that  God's  avenging  hand 
Itself  should  aught  of  torture  now  impose. 
'Twere  deepest  pain  that  guilty  souls  must  feel 
The  dreadful  pangs  of  self-inflicted  doom. 
Even  as  suicides  in  anguish  writhe 
From  poison  chosen  madly  by  themselves. 

Preferring  self  to  God,  they  liave  their  choice. 
Left  to  themselves,  removed  far  off  from  God, 
They  find,  without  His  blessing,  life  is  death, 
A  living  death,  from  which  'twere  joy  to  die. 
They  know  the  utmost  now  that  earth  can  yield. 
The  emptiness  of  earthly  hopes  and  joys, 


Book  Sixth— Faith    Triumphant.  195 

And  all  the  idols  of  a  worldly  soul, — 
Folly,-  vexation,  vanity,  and  sin. 
They  know  the  bitterness  of  vain  remorse, 
The  heaviness  of  hearts  that  have  no  hope. 


Anil  this  is  the  victory  that  overcometh  the  icorld,  even 
our  faith.    1  John  v.  4. 


EPILOGUE. 

oil,  for  an  angel's  pen  and  pencil,  skilled 
To  picture  forth,  in  few  successive  scenes, 
The  tragic  history  of  this  fallen  world ! 
'Tis  difficult  for  us  who  dwell  below, 
Upon  the  A^ery  battlefield  of  life, 
And  mingle  in  the  smoke  and  wild  uproar, 
And  dire  confusion  of  the  shifting  fight, 
To  view  with  all  embracing  gaze,  serene, 
The  whole  dread  panorama,  and  to  judge 
How  goes  the  battle,  what  its  salient  points. 

Yet  human  art  has  wondrously  portrayed 
The  most  momentous  scenes,  and  still  may  trace, 
By  aid  divine,  from  other  points  of  view, 
The  rise  and  progress  of  the  whole  great  war. 

Blind  Milton's  quickened  sight  could  view  afar, 

Beyond  the  ken  of  men  with  worldly  eyes. 

Scenes  awful  and  sublime,  whose  figures  vast. 

In  dreadful  darkness,  or  in  lurid  light. 

Set  forth  the  monstrous  wickedness  of  sin. 

And  Polluck,  from  his  heavenly  height,  could  trace 

Man's  downward  way,  through  all  the  "Course  of 

Time," 
And  tell,  in  tones  of  deep  solemnity. 
The  dreadful  judgments  that  must  surely  come 
On  thoughtless,  unbelieving  sons  of  men. 
And  Bickersteth,  in  our  own  age,  resumes 

199 


200  Bionopsis. 

The  solemn  tale,  with  sweet  pathetic  power 
And  thought  sublime,  which  "Yesterday,  To-Day, 
Forever,"  is  the  theme  of  thoughtful  men, 
While  worldly  men  think  chiefly  of  to-day. 

And  so  the  painter's  art  the  story  tells 
Of  human  life,  in  vivid  hues  and  forms. 
Thus  Cole,  with  force  and  beauty  well  combined. 
Sets  forth  the  '^  Voyage  of  Life." 

An  infant  fair. 
Sporting  with  flowers  that  deck  his  gallant  barque, 
Forth  issuing  from  the  dark  and  misty  cave. 
Whose  cliffs  above  are  draped  with  vailing  clouds 
(The  strange,  unknown,   "somewhere,"   of  nascent 

life). 
First  views  the  life  begun, — his  little  world 
Shut  in,  and  showing  no  horizon  broad : 
Nor  looks  he  forth,  e'en  to  the  flowery  banks. 
A  guardian  angel  guides  his  little  boat. 

Next  we  behold  a  youth,  elate  with  hope. 

And  brimming  o'er  with  joy,  grasping  the  helm. 

The  landscape  opens  grandly  to  the  view : 

The  river,  broad  and  fliir,  winds  to  the  sea, 

With  tropic  richness  lined,  and  stately  trees, 

In  the  receding  distance,  dwindling  down ; 

And  lo  !  a  city,  filling  heaven's  broad  arch. 

In  visionary  grandeur  rising  high, 

With  domes  and  towers,  meets  the  astonished  gaze. 

Upon  the  shore  the  angel  waves  adieu. 
But  ah,  the  boy,  unheeding,  sees  him  not. 


Epilogue.  20I 

Forgetting  all  behind,  he  j)resscs  on, 

With  hand  outstretched  to  grasp  the  promised  joys. 

Butlo!    The  third  grand  scene  !     Behold  the  boat, 

Oh,  horror !     On  the  very  cataract's  verge 

Ready  to  plunge  into  the  dread  abyss! 

Is  it? — It  is  the  same !  but  oh,  how  changed! 

How  changed  the  boatman !     Oh,  hovv^  changed  the 

scene! 
How  dark  the  frowning  clouds!     How  dread  the 

rocks, 
And  overhanging  cliffs  %    Is  it  indeed 
A  vast  and  awful  cavern,  hid  from  heaven, 
Through  which  the  torrent  storms  its  furious  course? 
Dark  fiendish  faces  grin  from  rocks  and  clouds. 
And  see !    The  lonely  voyager,  now  a  man, 
Struggling  no  more  with  oars,  with  clasped  hands 
Stands  up  to  utter  one  despairing  prayer  ! 
The  guardian  angel,  from  a  distant  cloud, 
Himself  appears  to  tremble  for  his  fate ! 
But  now  behold  the  end. 

The  night  of  death 
Has  cast  its  shroud  of  darkness  over  all. 
The  world,  the  busy  world,  with  all  its  pomps, 
With  all  its  business,  all  its  grand  concerns, 
And  e'en  the  solid  frame  of  earth  itself. 
Forgotten  now,  has  vanished  from  the  sight. 
And  now  the  little  barque  is  issuing  forth 
Upon  the  ocean  of  eternity. 
A  hoary  headed  man  now  humbly  bows, 


202  Bionopsis. 

And  offers  up  his  finished  life  to  Heaven. 
Will  Heaven  receive  him? 

Ah,  'twere  dread  indeed 
If  hope  forsook  him  now,  and  only  night, 
The  rayless  night  of  deep  and  black  desi^air 
Ended  his  splendid  dreams,  his  grand  desires, 
And  all  the  hopeful  voyage  of  his  life. 
But  no.     The  light  of  hope  gleams  from  above  ! 
And  on  a  shining  stairway,  reaching  down 
From  Heaven  itself,  angels,  descending,  come 
To  meet,  and  bear  the  weary  pilgrim  home ! 

Thus  brief  the  history  of  human  life 
Apart,  from  sin,  the  source  of  human  woe. 
The  history,  alas,  of  fallen  man 
Must  chiefly  be  the  history  of  sin. 

The  denizens  of  earth  conceived  in  sin, 

And  shapen  in  iniquity  by  birth. 

Knew  not  their  deep  disgrace  in  view  of  heaven. 

Knew  not  their  birthright  lost  by  Adam's  fall 

As  heirs  of  God's  eternal  love  and  grace. 

They  lived  for  earth  alone,  as  mindless  beasts. 
Save,  with  more  curious  instincts,  craft  and  skill, 
They  ruled  the  world  as  fallen  sons  of  God, 
And  could  not  hide  their  heavenly  origin. 
They  even  copied  virtues  all  divine, 
Friendship,  and  courage,  justice,  love,  and  truth  ; 
They  wrought  great  works,  with  heavenly  enterprise, 
"With  wisdom,  industry,  and  patient  skill, 
Working  as  if  they  were  not  born  to  diej 


Epilogue.  203 

They  built  great  cities;  fouuded  empires  vast; 

Subdued  and  trained  the  strength  of  mighty  beasts 

To  do  their  tasks;  tliey  harnessed  in  the  winds 

To  grind  their  food,  and  waft  them  o'er  the  waves; 

From  fire  and  water  they  evolved  a  force 

Obedient  as  an  infant  to  their  will, 

Yet  strong  to  draw  an  army  o'er  the  earth, 

Gr  drive  the  ark  itself  through  ocean  depths; 

Another  power  thej^  hid  in  sand-like  grains 

(Than  Arab  Genii  pent,  more  potent  far) 

Of  hideous  might  to  do  the  work  of  death, 

To  rend  the  rocks,  to  belch  out  suljihurous  flames 

And  bellow  forth  the  thundrous  rage  of  hell; 

They  even  caught  the  lightning's  vivid  flash 

To  light  their  streets,  and  bear  their  messages; 

They  taught  the  metals  how  to  utter  forth 

And  treasure  up  the  gems  of  thought  sublime ! 

But  we  anticipate.    Among  the  sons 
Of  those  who  serve  the  true  and  living  God, 
And  chiefly  those  who  honored  most  his  Christ, 
Those  wondrous  deeds  were  wrought.    Yet  even 

those 
Who  knew  him  not,  nor  loved  his  holy  name, 
In  art  and  letters  wondrously  excelled. 
Yet  born  Avith  powers  immortal  and  divine. 
Their  thoughts  scarce  rose  above  tlie  things  of  earth. 
Or  when  their  fancy  soared  to  loftier  heights, 
It  sought  not  wisdom  true  from  one  all  wise, 
But  "changed  the  glory  of  Almighty  God 
Into  an  image"  rude,  of  lifeless  clay, 


204  Bionopsis. 

Or  carvedj  perchance  (with  genius  too  divine 
To  stoop  so  low,  in  folly,  shame  and  guilt). 
From  gems,  and  gold,  or  long  enduring  stone. 
They  heeded  not  God's  voice  through  all  his  works, 
Nor  learned,  nor  souglit  his  holy  oracles. 

God's  word  declares  them  all  "without  excuse," 

Doomed  to  eternal  banishment  from  God ! 

The  heart  shrinks  back,  appalled  at  woe  like  this, 

Yet  strives  in  vain  the  ages  to  explore 

Of  hopeless  gloom,  to  find  some  gleam  of  hope. 

Ye  learned  philosophers,  who  still  excuse 
The  guilb  of  those  who  turn  away  from  God, 
Come  speak  your  mind.    Bring  wisdom  more  pro- 
found. 
The  destiny  of  our  lost  race  declare. 

Some  boldly  say, — 

"  We  Iiere  on  earth  fulfill 
Our  destiny,  to  live  and  die  like  beasts  !" 

Oh,  shameful  thought,  for  man's  immortal  soul! 
What  then!    When  this  brief  day  of  life  is  o'er? 
Answer!    O  conscience!     For  thyself  declare 
What  recompense  remains  for  heinous  guilt? 
If  justice  finds  her  end  in  earthly  life, 
Her  utter  failure  proves  her  deep  disgrace; 
The  fiends  that  fatten  on  their  brothers'  woes, 
Scorning  her  threats,  gain  virtue's  right  rewards. 
No !    Human  hearts  revolt  from  lies  like  this. 

r>ut  here  the  objector  brings  his  utmost  force, — 


Epilogue.  205 

"Kevolt  they  not  from  undue  penalty? 
And  seems  not  endless  pnnishmeut  undue?" 

So  seems  it.     Human  hearts  can  scarce  conceive 

The  dreadful  guilt  of  rebels  'gainst  their  God. 

The  crimes  'gainst  men  from  which  our  hearts  revolt, 

Are  palpable  and  near.     We  cannot  see 

How  every  sin  must  reach  the  heart  of  God. 

As  Tyrell's  glancing  shaft  found  Eufus'  soid. 

(And  M'as  not  Tyrell's  carelessness  a  crime?) 

But  many  an  arrow,  missing  human  hearts, 

Is  aimed  directly,  solely  at  the  King. 

And  every  sin  finds  its  recoil  on  God, 

As  every  missile  strikes,  at  last,  the  earth, 

All  sin  rebellion,  all  rebellion  sin. 

And  no  rebellion  can  abide  with  him ; 

If  unrepented,  unatoned,  it  brings 

Perpetual  banishment,  eternal  woe. 

Those  crimes  are  not  the  worst  which  outrage  men ; — 

The  most  outrageous  wound  the  King  Supreme. 

Yet  e'en  the  worst  are  only  rijDened  fruits, 

Sprung  from  the  same  corrupted  seed,  m  hich  yields, 

In  all  its  branches,  only  fruits  of  sin. 

Some  fruits  seem  excellent  in  sight  of  men. 

Oh,  fair  in  seeming  are  the  graces  rare 

Which  well  the  human  character  adorn. 

And  when  they  spring  from  faith  and  love  to  God, 

In  truth  are  fair  indeed,  in  sight  of  God. 

But  only  power  divine  which  gives  new  life 
Can  ''unto  holiness  bring  forth  new  fruits," 


2o6  Bionopsis. 

And  ill  tlic  end  giv-e  "everlasting  life." 
Think  not  that  those  who  never  truly  live, 
Not  choosing  true  life  here,  can  e'er  be  heirs 
Of  true  and  blessed  life  beyond  the  grave. 
Nor  think  by  deeds  alone  we  live  or  die  ; 
Not  circumstancey  but  nature  fixes  fate. 
Those  who  receive  a  nature  all  divine 
Shall  dwell  with  God.     None  others  see  his  face. 

But  some  complain,  "  Why  hast  thou  made  us  thus,' 

Involuntary  heirs  of  earthly  life, 

If  hereon  hangs  eternal  life  or  woe?" 

Unreasonable  thought!  though  seeming  wise, 

The  wisdom  of  th'  Allwise  to  imj)ugn. 

What  would' st  thou  have,  to  make  the  judgment 

just? 
A  choice  decreed  to  souls  in  embryo 
"To  be  or  not  to  be,"  with  full  foresight 
Of  all  that  life  could  bring  of  good  or  ill? 
What  more  than  embryo,  our  present  state? 

Or  murmurest  thou  because  'tis  ours  to  choose, — 
This  life  the  time  to  make  the  choice,  for  aye  ? 

O  highly  favored  man !  with  reason  blest 
Above  all  earthly  creatures,  here,  in  this, 
Behold  thine  opportunity  sublime  ! 
God  gives  eternal  bliss  to  fallen  man ! 
By  birthright  made  at  first  an  heir  of  life, 
And,  since  that  right  was  forfeited  by  sin. 
Still  made  an  heir  through  volantarij  choice! 


Epilogue.  icrj 

Dost  thou  complain  thou  wast  uot  forced  to  be 

A  son  or  servant  of  the  living  God? 

What  Aartue  dwells  in  force!    Or  what  true  joy, 

Were  Heaven  a  prison  of  unwilling  souls? 

God  seeks  not  slaves,  or  mere  automatons 

To  sing  his  praises,  or  to  do  his  will, 

But  those  who  find  a  rapture  in  his  love. 

Think'st  thou  'tis  false  that  those  who  such  love 

scorn. 
Must  miss  the  life  found  only  in  that  love, 
And  also  wake  to  loss  of  earthly  joys, — 
Bounties  and  mercies  long  bestowed  in  vain 
On  ''  evil  and  unthankful "  enemies, 
The  'sunshine  on  the  evil  and  the  good," 
And  "rain  on  just  and  unjust,"  sent  from  heaven? 

Ah,  woe  to  earth  when  these  are  long  withheld, 

And  greater  woe  when  souls  are  desolate, 

With  neither  sun  nor  shower  of  heavenly  grace, 

Nor  best  affections  e'en  of  worldly  hearts; 

When  gentle  love  and  charity  are  dead. 

And  hope,  sweet  hope,  shall  cheer  man's  heart  no 

more, 
But  dark  malignant  passions,  unrestrained. 
Shall  fill  the  soul  with  bitterness  and  woe. 

If  men  refuse  the  gentle  reign  of  God 

In  all  their  hearts,  and  scorn  his  teachings  wise, 

Preferring  Satan's  subtleties  and  sin, 

They  have  their  choice     The  choice  itself  is  death. 

A  heinous  sin,  it  brings  eternal  death. 


2o8  Bionopsis. 

And  first  of  all  it  seals  the  hopeless  loss, 

Within  the  soul  itself,  of  all  true  life, 

All  principle  of  holiness,  and  good. 

And  like  their  chosen  master,  day  by  day. 

They  grow,  insensibly,  until  at  last 

They  show  themselves  fit  children  of  their  King. 

God's  word  breathes  not  a  single  breath  of  hope 

To  those  who  scorn  his  offered  mercy  here. 

Oh,  dreadful  world!  where  God's  love  dwelleth  not, 

And  where  his  brooding  Spirit  cannot  come. 

His  gentle  pleadings  there  are  heard  no  more; 

No  more  are  heard  tlie  offers  of  his  grace ; 

Nor  sweet  and  grateful  praise  from  tuneful  lips: 

But  blasphemies  and  curses  fill  the  ear, 

And  ravings  wild  of  wrath  most  impotent. 

But  some  e'en  now  blaspheme  God's  blessed  name 
At  everj^  thought  of  such  a  woe  as  this, 
With  foul  and  shameful  words  of  hate  and  scorn. 
And  spurn  the  faithful  warnings  of  his  word. 
As  empty  imprecations,  idle  threats. 
Proceeding  from  a  dark  malignant  soul ! 

O,  holy  God!     Can  madness  further  go? 
Foul  slander  leach  more  arrogant  a  height? 
Shall  human  folly,  desperate,  hellish  hate. 
Presume  to  sit  in  judgment  on  our  God? 

Listen,  O  scorner  of  the  word  divine. 
What  more  could  God  have  done  to  save  our  race  ? 
What  greater  love  show  creatures  steeped  in  sin^ 
If  all  this  fails,  what  yet  remains  to  do? 


Epilogue.  209 

God  "  vvilleth  not  the  death  of  sinful  men." 
He  would  that  all  repent,  believe,  and  live. 

Yet  certain  teachers,  some  who  love  the  Lord, 
Confounded  and  distressed,  in  mind  and  heart, 
By  this  profound  and  dreadful  mystery, 
Would  fain  defend  the  Word,  by  yielding  up 
Its  obvious  meaning,  whispering  still  of  hope, 
Which  God's  word  whispers  not,  to  souls  unsaved. 
(Eeason  might  favor  such  alternative, 
Rather  than  blind  unreasoning  unbelief. 
Which  scorns  sure  facts  for  empty  theories.) 
But  wiser  'tis  to  follow  him  who  taught 
''As  never  yet  man  taught,"  nor  speculate, 
When  he  bids  j)reach  the  word,  and  save  the  lost. 
They  ask 

"Why  not  annihilate  the  lost  ?" 
No  need  have  we  to  theorize.     We  know 
That  if  'twere  best,  and  God  could  thus  relieve 
All  needless  suffering,  so  it  would  be  done. 

Degrees  of  penalties  no  doubt  are  fixed 
"To  every  man  according  to  his  works," 
But  unto  him  who  "judgeth  all  the  earth, 
Who  will  do  right,"  we  leave  the  last  award. 


Therefore  choose  life,  that  both  thou  and  thy  seed 
may  live.    Deut.  xxx.  19. 


L'ENVOI. 

Apart  from  God,  vain  man,  tlie  child  of  eartb, 
Is  eartliy  still,  and  stays  his  soul  on  earth. 
And  when  this  crumbling  i^rop  of  earth  decays, 
His  soul,  though  breathed  of  God,  and  made  to  rise 
Towards  God  and  heaven,  defiled  and  burdened  now 
With  deadly  sin,  if  unredeemed,  sinks  down 
In  hopeless  death,  its  true  life  forfeited. 

For  in  GoiVs  favor  only  there  is  life; 
His  loving  kindness  even  more  than  life. 

2IO 


THE  END  OF  PART  FIEST. 


sjf.S^M',.  _  FvcSQl    rnv   K^OTOV — Jer.  xx^ci.  ^54;  Hkb.  vni.  n.         ^-  /\ 


I 


^  3  -• 


#?.^;^ 


"The  last  Adam  was  made  a  quickening    spirit." 

—  I     CoK.     XV.    45. 

"The  second   man  Is  the   Lord   from   heaven."  j 

-1    C..R.    .XV.    47.  ^     ^^ 


gg^^TT--^^— T?SS 


INVOCATION. 

Spirit  of  Life,  and  Light  Divine,  in  me, 

The  least  of  all  thy  servants,  breathe. 

Oh,  breathe  that  heavenly  breath  of  influence  sweet, 

Which,  like  the  balmy  breath  of  spring,  that  wakes 

The  cold,  dead  earth,  to  life  and  poesj^, 

Shall  rouse  my  sluggish  soul  to  life  divine. 

Of  thee  I  long  to  sing.     My  highest  wish, 
This  side  of  Heaven,  is  but  to  speak  and  live 
For  Thee, — to  be  Thy  voice,  myself,  like  Thee 
Unseen,  and  all  unknown  by  the  great  world 
(Because  it  knew  Him  not  who  came  to  save). 
"A  voice,"  whose  ^'crying  in  the  wilderness" 
May  reach  poor  souls  wildered  and  lost  therein, 
And  lead  their  erring  feet  to  Thee  again. 

O  source  of  truest  life !  teach  me  to  speak 

So  wisely  and  so  well  of  that  true  life, 

Which  lost  immortals  vainly  strive  to  find 

In  mortal  scenes,  that  some  may  lift  their  eyes 

To  see  that  life  in  Thee ; — 

A  life  so  full. 

E'en  in  this  narrow  vale  of  death,  so  ricli 

In  this  poor  tenement  of  clay,  so  bright 

In  this  dark  day  of  clouds,  and  mists,  so  pure 

Where  guilt  and  foul  corruption  reign,  so  sweet 

Midst  rancor,  bitterness  and  gall,  so  true 

Midst  vanity  and  lies,  so  high,  so  grand 

215 


2i6  Invocation. 

Amid  the  petty,  low,  and  mean,  so  free 

"Where  clank  the  chains  of  sin,  so  full  of  hope 

Where  fell  despair  would  blot  ont  Heaven  itself; — 

A  life  so  holy,  happy,  and  divine, 

That  unbelievers  must  themselves  confess 

Its  truth  and  power,  while  those  who  seek  thygraco 

Eeceive  thy  life,  and  looking  unto  thee, 

"Beholding,  day  by  day,  as  in  a  glass, 

The  glory  of  the  Lord,  themselves  are  chauged 

Into  the  same  bright  image,  passing  on 

From  glory  unto  glory,  even  here. 

As  by  the  spirit  of  the  Living  God  1 " 


m^iEm^  LIFE 

ras  IDE© 


i: 


WT/in  ^A«    F^^al'l 


fe      ^1^'  ^    ^ 


--A 


PROEM. 

Hark !    The  song  of  rapture,  swelling 
Loud  from  all  the  liosts  above ! 

Oh,  liow  sweetly,  gladlj^  telling 
Boundless  bliss,  and  speechless  love! 

Sweeter  yet,  more  full  of  glory, 

Wafted  to  our  waiting  ears, 
Sounds  that  wondrous  heavenly  story 

Echoing  through  this  vale  of  tears. 

"Peace  on  earth,  good  will  from  heaven! 

Glory  to  the  Lord  on  high ! " 
Pardon,  life,  and  joy  are  given ! 

Live !  ye  souls,  once  doomed  to  die ! 

Hail  thou  mighty  Lord  !  descending. 
Leaving  Heaven's  all  glorious  throne! 

Come,  ye  sous  of  men,  attending, 
Euined  souls,  your  Saviour  own! 

Ah !  what  means  that  cross  uplifted! 

Dies  my  sovereign  there,  for  mef 
Oh,  may  I,  my  God,  thus  gifted. 

Live  and  die  henceforth  foi-  thee! 


217 


BOOK  ONE. 

Urged  througli  the  depths  of  space  hj  soulless  force, 

Obedient  to  a  law  it  could  not  shun, 

Of  him  whose  sceptre  is  omnipotence, 

Our  little  planet,  like  a  shining  point 

Of  starry  dust,  moved  midst  its  sister  worlds. 

And  wondering  eyes  looked  out  on  every  side, 

And  asked  ''how  fares  it  with  the  sons  of  men?" 

In  harmony  themselves  with  God's  decrees, 

The  sons  of  God  had  shouted  lond  for  joy. 

And  all  the  morning  stars  together  sang. 

When  first  they  welcomed  earth  to  join  their  host ; 

And  well  they  marked  the  seeming  order  kept 

In  all  its  annual  course. 

But  angel  lips, 

(3f  those  who  flitted  oft  from  star  to  star, 

With  swiftest  wings,  on  messages  of  love, 

Had  whispered  tremblingly  the  strange  reports 

Of  man's  apostacy  from  God  ! 

Alas! 

That  e'en  the  least  of  all  his  wondrous  works 

Should  scorn  his  rule,  when  freely  left  to  choose. 

And  those  who  heard  the  dark  and  dreadful  tale, 

That  sin  and  death  reigned  in  a  world  so  fair, 

Looked  forth  with  fear,  expecting  soon  to  see 

That  bright  but  guilty  world,  which  so  belied 

Its  beauty  and  the  order  of  its  course, 

Blotted  at  once  from  out  the  height  of  heaven, 

219 


220  Bionopsis. 

Or,  like  a  wandering  star,  consigned  to  depths 
Of  everlasting  darkness  and  despair. 
It  seemed  e'en  now,  to  pure  angelic  eyes, 
A  loathsome  plague-spot  on  the  face  of  heaven. 

But  Oh,  the  depths  of  God's  amazing  love! 
Though  scorned  and  hated  by  the  sons  of  men, 
And  even  slandered  for  the  righteous  doom 
"Which  laws  unchangeable  had  e'er  decree'd 
On  every  soul  that  wrought  unrighteousness, 
''Not  willing,"  (so  his  holy  word  declares,) 
"That  any  souls  should  perish"  in  their  sins, 
He  sought  to  win  them  back  from  death  and  hell. 

Oh,  that  our  minds  might  rise  with  reverence  deep 
To  loftiest  heights  of  rapt  adoring  thought, 
To  view  that  wondrous  scene  in  Heaven's  high  courts. 
E'er  the  foundations  of  the  Earth  were  laid, 
When  God  the  Father  covenant  made  with  him, 
Who  by  himself  should  save  a  guilty  world ! 
Tliis  may  not  be.     But  let  us  view  the  scene. 
When  first  to  wondering  worlds  which  saw  man's 

fall, 
God's  plan  of  mercy  was  at  last  announced. 

Yet  how  transcend  the  bounds  of  time  and  spaced 

Science  may  furnish  but  a  few  dim  hints, 

And  Faith  itself  can  mere  suggestions  give. 

But  intuitions  of  the  truth  sublime 

'Tis  ours  to  gain  by  hearing  wisdom's  voice, 

*'  By  watching  daily  at  her  sacred  gates. 

And  waiting  patient  at  her  door  posts  long," 


Book  First — 77ic  Loid  of  Life.  221 

In  holy  contemplation  of  her  words. 

Seek  we  tlie  light  through  God's  own  holy  book, 

And  through  his  vast  material  universe. 

His  Spirit's  pure  illumiuating  fire, 

That  guides  as  into  all  essential  truth, 

Shall  save  from  serious  error  as  we  rise. 

Behold  the  starry  hosts  around  us  glow 
With  holy  light  and  mystic  life  from  God, 
Pointing  above  all  sublunary  things 
To  God  their  great  Creator,  and  their  end. 

Lo !  as  we  gaze  upon  their  bright  array, 
The  Earth  itself  escapes  and  vanishes. 
Yon  galaxy,  that  stretched  so  pale  and  dim 
Across  our  skies,  now  glows  with  stronger  light. 
See  I     It  dissolves !     Innumerable  worlds 
Appear  distinct,  and  nearer,  nearer  draw. 
'Tis  we  ourselves  are  gifted  with  a  power 
Unknown  before.    Our  wondering  eyes  behold 
The  glorious  hosts  of  God,  through  all  his  realms. 
E'en  to  creation's  utmost  verge  they  range. 
And  stars,  unseen  before  by  mortal  eyes 
Through  mightiest  instruments,  appear  in  light. 
Our  souls  are  lost !     Our  senses  stupelied  ! 
O'erwhelmed,  we  wonder  at  the  amazing  sight ! 

But  power  divine  upholds  us,  and  restores 
Our  fainting  strength,  and  greater  wonders  yet 
God  shows,  in  glimpses  clear,  as  we  have  strength 
To  bear  the  wondrous  sight ;  for  lo !  jou  orbs 
Swell  into  worlds,  whose  strange  inhabitants 


222  Bionopsis. 

Are  visible  through  all  their  vast  extent! 
Oh,  strange  indeed  to  human  eyes  they  seem, 
Yet  blest  and  beautiful  beyond  all  thought 
Of  mortal  man,  beyond  his  power  to  guess. 

Assembled  now  they  look  from  mountain  heights, 
From  valleys,  and  from  plains,  a  multitude! — 
Yea,  countless  multitudes  look  forth  to  view 
The  Lord  of  Hosts  upon  his  glorious  throne! 

Ah !    This,  not,  yet,  may  we.     No  sinful  eyes 
May  e'er  behold  his  glorious  majesty ! 
The  beatific  vision  yet  awaits 
Our  happy  souls,  when  free  from  sinful  flesh  ! 

But  yon  unfallen  worlds  the  privilege 
E'en  now  enjoy,  with  rapturous  delight. 
A.nd  in  each  beaming  countenance  we  see 
Eeflected  glories,  as  on  Moses'  face. 

In  rainbow  hues  arrayed,  some  dazzling  hosts 
Excite  our  wonder.     Others  shine  in  light 
Fair  as  the  moon,  when,  seen  on  wintry  night, 
Sharp  outlined  'gainst  the  dark  blue  vault  of  hea- 
ven. 
She  swiftly  rides,  the  glorious  queen  of  night. 
And  others  still  (oh,  most  amazing  sight !) 
Flash  into  view,  with  splendor  like  the  sun. 
On  wings  of  power,  like  planets  in  themselves! 
These  are  the  glorious  seraphim  of  God, 
"The  Principalities,  and  Powers,"  of  Heaven! 


Bool:  First — The  Lord  of  Life.  223 

A  hush  of  expectation  rests  on  all. 

Now  hark !    What  breaks  the  stillness  of  the  spheres'? 

Entrancing  sounds  of  heavenly  melody 

From  happy  seraphs  dwelling  near  the  throne, 

Steal  through  the  vast  expanse  of  listening  woi  Ids. 

But  oh,  the  loud  response  that  now  ascends 

The  chorus  of  glad  voices  swelling  forth, 

A  multitudinous,  a  thrilling  sound, 

Louder  than  ocean's  waves  on  all  her  coasts, 

Louder  than  thousand  thunders  blent  in  one, 

And  yet  in  harmony  sublime  and  sweet ! 

The  inspiration  and  the  sentiment 

Is  "praise  to  God,  who  doeth  all  things  well!" 

The  song  is  hushed,  and  Gabriel  now  stands  fortli, 
The  great  archangel  sent  to  watch  o'er  Earth, 
And  sad  proclaims  the  guilty  fall  of  mun! 

A  solemn  silence  settles  on  the  host. 

An  awful  stillness  as  of  death  itself, 

And  grief  and  fear  descend  on  every  heart. 

One  word  might  tell  the  thought  of  every  soul, 

' '  Lost ! "  "  Lost ! ' '     Alas  !  the  world  is  ' '  lost ! " 

But  from  the  throne  itself  goes  forth  a  voice, 
"'Tis  yet  our  will  to  seek  and  save  the  lost. 
'Whom  shall  we  send?  and  who  for  us  will  go?'  " 

The  mightiest  angels  listen,  all  amazed ! 
Who  can  redeem  the  fallen  sons  of  men? 
And  silence  reigns  o'er  all  the  heavenly  host. 


224  Bionopsis. 

Yet  such  the  love  which  angels  beai-  to  God 
That  soon  from  every  side  responses  come. 

'"Here,  Lord,  am  I,'  to  do  thy  will,  'send  me.'" 

Ah,  what  can  angels  do  to  purge  the  guilt 
That  clings  to  human  nature,  and  must  be 
By  human  nature  answered  and  atoned? 
The  mighty  problem  fills  each  anxious  heart. 

But  lo !    Oh,  wonder!    From  the  throne  itself 

Stands  forth  the  messenger  of  love  divine ! 

"Only  begotten  and  beloved  Son," 

Who  "dwelleth  in  the  Father's  bosom,"  aye, 

"The  brightness  of  his  glory,"  evermore, 

"The  very  image  of  his  person,"  He 

"  Upholding  all  things  by  his  powerful  word," 

Though  "counting  it  no  robbery"  to  remain 

As  "equal  with  the  Lord,"  yet  condescends 

To  take  the  mighty  task  of  saving  men ! 

And  thus  he  speaks, 

"  My  Father,  lo  !  I  come, 
In  yon  blest  volume  of  thy  holy  book 
'Tiswrit  of  me  (Our  lasting  covenant  made 
E'er  time  began),  'To  do  thy  holy  will 
Is  my  delight.'     I  take  the  sinner's  place, 
I  bear  the  dreadful  load  of  8iii  and  shame." 

Astonished  silence  reigns  ngain  in  Heaven, 
A  solemn  wonder  o'er  those  countless  hosts, 
While  grief  and  fear  fill  many  a  loyal  heart. 
Yet  teuderest  love,  and  admiration  new. 
And  holy  joy,  triumphant  rise  at  last. 


Book  First— The  Lord  of  Life.  225 

Kew  depths  of  glory  iu  the  heart  divine 

Are  now  revealed  to  Heaven's  delighted  eyes. 

And  uuto  sinful  Earth  'tis  given  to  see 

A  glory  yet  unseen  before  in  Heaven, 

Divine  compassion,  and  forgiving  love, 

Stooping  to  ransom  creatures  lost  in  sin, — 

A  "glory  full  of  grace  and  truth,''  of  one, 

"Only  begotten  well  beloved  Son" 

Of  him  who  sits  on  Heaven's  eternal  throne 

This  glory  shines  in  spiritual  realms, 

By  beasts  and  beastly  natures  all  unseen, 

But  visible  to  pure  anointed  eyes 

Of  lovers  of  the  truth,  by  truth  made  free. 

':^  %  ;•<  ^  ^  ;[{ 

Long  ages  roll,  counted  in  earthly  years, 
E'er  Heaven's  decree  was  on  the  Earth  fulfilled; 
But  "when  the  fulness  of  the  time  was  come,'' 
The  "Lord  sent  forth  his  Son,"  of  woman  born, 
And  subject  made  to  law,  that  He  might  learn 
Obedience  for  man's  sake,  who  disobeyed. 

Awake,  and  greet  the  day,  O  Earth, 
The  illustrious  morn, 
So  honored  by  the  Saviour's  birth ! 
Awake,  O  joy,  and  holy  mirth. 
For  Christ  is  born  ! 

O  gladness,  fill  each  loving  soul ! 

Eing  out  your  glee  ! 

And  let  the  happy  echoes  roll, 

From  East  to  West,  from  Pole  to  Pole, 

From  sea  to  sea. 


226  Bionopsis. 

Ye  angels,  with  the  earth  rejoice, 

In  realms  of  light ! 

Behold  your  Sovereign's  gracious  choice  ! 

Praise  him  \\  ith  harps,  with  lieai-t,  and  voice, 

With  pure  delight ! 

Ah,  how  can  Earth,  unconscious,  still  sleep  on, 

Wrapped  in  her  dreams  of  earthly  good  or  ill, 

When  God  himself  attends  her  low  estat«', 

And  Heaven  rejoices  for  the  Earth's  great  joy  % 

Far  different  now  the  lot  of  man  on  Earth, 

From  that  in  Paradise,  when  God  was  near. 

Sweet  innocence  was  his,  and  deep  delight 

In  God,  and  all  things  beautiful  and  good. 

But  now  from  each  extreme  of  human  life 

Come  signs  of  sin  and  sorrow,  gloom  and  doubt. 

On  Eomc's  imperial  hills  proud  Csesar  sways 

The  destinies  of  empires  ruled  by  force. 

Incarnate  selfishness  sits  there  enthroned. 

On  Judah's  throne  reign  cruelty  and  lust. 

And  splendid  misery  presides  o'er  all. 

From  temples  and  from  academic  groves 

Blows  "every  wind  of  doctrine,"  foul  or  fair, 

Of  false  religions,  false  philosophies ; 

And  e'en  from  Zion's  sacred  hill  there  breathes 

The  odor  of  decay  ;  for  Pharisees, 

And  i)riests,  and  scribes,  like  "  whited  sepulchres," 

Preserve  dead  forms,  not  true  religious  life. 

Men  drift  in  vain  on  restless  seas  of  doubt. 

Foundering  in  superstition's  dismal  depths, 

Or  wrecked  on  rocks  of  total  unbelief 


Book  First — T/ic  Lord  of  Life.  227 

For  hopeless  "darkness  covers  all  the  earth, 
Gross  darkness  all  the  people." 

'Wake,  O  Earth  ! 
For  unto  you  that  sit  in  hopeless  gloom, 
"The  region  and  the  shadow  deep  of  death, 
Light  shall  arise  ! "     Behold,  e'en  now  it  dawns ! 
And  hark ! 

From  Bethlehem's  plains  the  thrilling  sound 

Of  sweet  angelic  voices  hail  the  day ! 

Oh,  list  the  song,  borne  on  the  breeze  of  night ! 

"  Glory  to  God ! "  sounds  all  abroad, 

"Glory  to  God  on  high!  " 
''  Glory  to  God ! "  "  glory  to  God  ! " 

The  echoes  oft  reply. 

Yet  hark !    O  Earth!    Oh,  list  again. 

That  happy,  heavenly  strain  ! 
"  Good  will  to  men  !    Good  will  to  men ! " 

The  loud  and  sweet  refrain. 

And  "  peace  on  Earth  !  "  '^  Sweet  peace  on  Earth  1 ' ' 

Oh,  may  it  never  cease. 
All  hail  our  mighty  Sovereign's  birth, 

The  glorious  "  Prince  of  Peace ! ' ' 

Let  Earth  prolong  that  happy  song, 

And  may  it  echoing  roll. 
Succeeding  centuries  along. 

To  glad  each  sorrowing  soul. 

The  humble  shepherds,  near  their  sleeping  flocks, 
With  wonder  hear  the  rapturous  joy  of  Heaven, 


228  Bionopsis. 

And  see  the  glory  of  the  dazzling  hosts. 

A  little  moment,  night  gives  place  to  day, 

Or  mystic  splendor,  neither  daj^  nor  night — 

No  day  nor  night  like  this,  while  time  endures. 

But,  like  the  sheep,  the  unconscious  world  sleeps  on. 

Save  at  the  little  inn  at  Bethlehem, 

Where  humble  hearts,  in  unison  with  Heaven, 

With  holy  rapture,  with  exceeding  joy. 

Welcome  the  advent  of  the  Son  of  God, 

Eevealed  in  flesh  as  also  Son  of  man. 

Oh,  mystery  above  all  mysteries ! 
The  union,  real  and  true,  of  God  and  man ! 
"To  us  a  child  is  born,  a  son  is  given; 
The  empire  of  the  world  on  him  is  laid : 
His  glorious  name  is  called  the  Wonderful, 
The  Counsellor,  the  Great  and  Mighty  God, 
The  Everlasting  Father,  Prince  of  Peace!  " 

Eejoice,  ye  sons  of  men  !  rejoice  with  her. 
In  whom  this  sweetest  mystery  of  earth. 
Of  bringing  in  a  precious  soul  to  life, 
Is  now  fulfilled  in  bringing  in  the  Christ. 
Not  introducing  sin,  like  mother  Eve, 
Or  giving  birth  to  Cain,  the  murderer. 
Thou  usherest  in  the  very  "Lamb  of  God," 
Ordained  to  take  away  the  sins  of  men. 
And  make  us  victors  over  death  and  hell. 

O  Mary  !  sweetest  name  of  womankind, 
Henceforth,  among  all  nations,  "blessed"  called, 


Book  First—  The  Lord  of  Life.  229 

A  truly  blessed  mother,  dignified 

As  "Mother"  by  the  very  Son  of  God, 

And  crowned  as  qneen  of  countless  human  hearts, 

How  doth  thy  soul  exult  in  Christ  thy  Lord  ! 

With  deepest  reverence,  tenderest,  happiest  love, 

She  treasures  in  her  arms  this  wondrous  gift, 

The  "  gift  unsi^eakable,' '  of  love  divine ! 

The  gift  of  gifts,  to  her  and  all  mankind  ! 

Oh,  words  were  weak,  and  liveliest  thought  were 

lame, 
And  human  art  were  impotent  to  catch, 
And  show  to  men  the  raptures  of  her  soul 
E'en  Eaphael  could  only  dimly  hint 
The  wondrous  grace  of  such  a  mother  love. 

Hasten,  ye  shepherds !    Hasten  to  the  fold ! 
Behold,  with  us,  the  sweet,  the  amazing  sight, 
The  Prince  of  Earth  and  Heaven,  so  lowly  laid. 
Amidst  the  sheep  and  oxen  of  the  stall, 
Within  a  manger  for  his  cradle  bed. 

The  happy  mother,  resting  near  his  side, 

Thoughtless  of  self,  doth  watch,  with  mind  intent 

As  guardian  angel,  o'er  her  sleeping  child. 

O  sight  of  beauty  to  discerning  eyes  ! 

The  splendors  vain  of  outward  pomj)  and  show. 

Of  rich  apparel,  costly  gems,  and  art. 

That  minister  to  selfishness  and  pride. 

Yield  but  a  transient  pleasure  to  the  eye. 

Passing  and  fading  like  the  evening  clouds. 

Thy  beauty,  gentle  mother,  like  a  star, 


23®  Bionopsis. 

Needs  iiauglit  of  earthly  art,  or  praise,  or  blame, 
But  shines  aloft,  with  gentle  ray  serene, 
Far  up  beyond  the  dimming  clouds  of  time, 
And  dwelleth  in  the  memory  of  men. 
Rude  thy  surroundings,  plain  thy  humble  garb. 
Yet,  like  the  water-lily,  which  enfolds. 
Within  its  snowy  breast,  a  heart  of  gold. 
Unfolding  all  its  wealth  from  depths  of  ooze 
Repugnant  to  the  natural  sense  of  men, 
Yet  gracing  all,  with  loveliness  most  rare, 
So  thou,  upon  thy  chaste  and  spotless  breast, 
Enfoldest  him,  who  is  the  heart  of  hearts  ! 
From  depths  of  i^overty  thou  makest  rich     . 
The  world  itself,  and  sheddest  grace  on  things. 
Which,  once  despised,  behold  !  are  glorified ! 
And  consecrated !  in  the  hearts  of  men  ! 
Thou  borrowest  not  thy  fame  from  eartlily  things. 
But,  like  the  moon,  which  beauty  sheds  o'er  all, 
Reflectest  light  sent  from  the  sun  himself. 

O  Mary!  dear  to  thoughtful  loving  hearts. 
Because  so  dear  to  him  who  loved  us  all, 
We  hail  thee  !  type  of  all  true  motherhood ! 
We  think  of  one  translated  from  the  earth 
To  whom  we  owe  our  life  and  life's  best  gifts. 

(O  Mother !     Feebly  can  we  tell  thy  worth. 
Or  speak  the  love  our  fond  hearts  owe  to  thee. 
From  thee  we  gain  our  holiest  thoughts  of  God, 
And  illustrations  of  his  care  divine, 
The  knowledge  sweet  of  tenderness  and  love, 


Book  First —  The  Lord  of  Life.  23 1 

And  gentle  ministry,  unselfisb,  pure, 

Patient,  and  vigilant,  unwearying,  kind, 

A  readiness  to  saciifice  thyself 

To  bless  thy  children,  and  to  guide  them  on 

Towards  God  and  Heaven  by  leading  in  the  way.)  ' 

But  thou,  O  Mary,  mayest  teach  the  world 
How  life  is  noblest,  not  in  being  served. 
But  serving  hiui  who  came  to  serve  us  all. 
Most  highly  favored  of  all  women  thou ! 
Most  blest  thy  privilege  to  nourish  him 
Who  came  to  draw  us  all  unto  himself. 
He  came,  'tis  true,  to  minister  to  us, 
"  Xot  to  be  ministered  unto  "  himself. 
But  'tis  thine  honor  and  thy  joy,  for  him 
To  fill  those  offices  of  tenderest  love. 
And  gentlest  ministry  for  his  dear  sake, 
Which  make  true  mothers  blest. 

How  blessed  thou  ! 

But  who  can  tell  the  thoughts  of  that  fair  child  ? 
Or  how  the  God-head  manifest  in  him 
Could  dwell  with  weakness,  ignorance  and  grief, 
Or  how  or  when  'twas  first  revealed  to  him! 

We  only  reason,  since  his  human  soul 

Increased  in  wisdom,  as  his  human  form 

Increased  in  stature,  both  iu  favor  too 

With  God  and  man,  there  also  dawned  and  grew 

A  conciousness  of  his  relationship, 

The  son  of  man,  as  truly  Son  of  God, 

The  mystprj"  sublime  of  God  within. 


232  Bionopsis. 

Ere  this  his  ijarciits  knew  from  augel  lips, 

His  name  "Emmauuel,"  whose  meaning  deep 

A  slow  faith  loses,  unbelief  evades. 

What  reverence  filled  tlieij-  hearts!  what  thou,uh{s 

sublime 
Of  holy  joy  and  gratitude  and  love ! 
To  natural  tenderness,  which  even  beasts 
Feel  for  their  young,  was  added  in  their  hearts, 
A  sacred  sense  of  new  relationship 
To  God  himself,  a  nearness  never  known 
By  human  hearts  ere  this,  though  Enoch  walked 
In  union  close  with  God,  and  Moses  stood 
Upon  the  flaming  mounr,  and  heard  His  voice. 

Ah,  sweeter,  dearer,  tenderer  than  theirs 
The  holy  rapture  of  their  humble  souls, 
AVho  press  to  throbbing  hearts,  in  fond  embrace. 
With  love  unspeakable,  their  precious  child, 
AVho  also  was  the  "well  beloved  Son" 
Of  God  Himself! 

Ah,  now  they  saw  such  depths 
Of  God's  amazing  love  herein  revealed. 
That  all  the  former  visions  of  the  Lord 
Seemed  only  glimpses,  distant,  faint  and  dim, 
As  one  might  see  a  prince  or  hero  pass, 
In  chariot  of  state,  through  crowded  streets. 
For  them,  the  king  forsook  his  royal  pomp. 
Came  down,  and  gave  himself  as  all  their  own  ! 
Yet  showed  his  deity  in  other  forms. 
They  saw  no  dazzling  splendor,  heard  no  sound 
Of  awful  majesty,  or  whelming  power: 


Book  First —  The  Lord  of  Life.  233 

These  could  not  show  the  gentleness  and  grace 

That  more  adorned  the  glorious  King  of  Heaven ; 

But  infant  feebleness,  and  childish  pain, 

The  narrowness  and  w ant,  of  poverty, 

Displayed  a  condescension  so  profound 

That  Heaven  beheld  amazed,  and  men  of  Earth 

Could  scarce  believe,  could  never  comprehend  ; 

A  condescension  only  possible 

To  God  himself, — as  glorious  as  his  power. 

Yea, more!     Far  more!     For  Satan  too  has  power, 

But  this  is  glory  true,  that  "God  is  love." 

Oh,  that  we  all  might  thus  lay  hold  on  God, 

And,  with  the  tenderness  of  truest  love, 

Might  hold  him  to  our  hearts! 

But  is't  not  ours? 
Was'fc  not  for  this  God  sent  his  only  Sou 
Thus  to  reveal  his  love,  and  win  our  hearts? 
Our  love  He  thus  entreats,  "  Abide  in  Me, 
And  I  in  you,"  as  branches  in  the  vine. 
But  oh,  that  we  might  clasp  him  in  our  arms, 
And  offer  some  sweet  ministry  of  love, 
A  love  unspeakable  by  word  or  deed. 
As  Mary  loved  and  ministered  of  yore  I 
Such  is  our  fond  desire. 

But  is't  not  given 
To  love  and  minister  in  other  forms  ? 
"For  inasmuch  as  unto  one  of  these. 
The  very  least.  Ye  do  such  things,"  said  God, 
"  Ye  do  them  unto  me ! " 

It  was  indeed 


234  Bionopsis, 

A  crowning  blessing  unto  Mary  given, 
Beyond  all  others  of  the  race  of  man, 
Or  e'en  of  "  iiriucipalities  and  powers 
In  heavenly  worlds,"  to  do  such  acts  of  love 
As  only  mothers  may ; 

But  is  it  thine, 
Fair  sister  to  embrace  a  child!  thine  own  % 
Behold  an  emblem  of  the  sacred  trust 
To  Mary  given,  a  sacred  trust  to  thee, 
A  gem  more  precious  than  the  Koh-i-noor, 
Famed  "Mount  of  light! "  and  for  a  worthier  crown, 
To  glisten  in  the  coronet  of  Heaven  ! 
Guard  well  thy  trust.    'Tis  not  to  idolize, 
Or  claim  for  self,  the  treasure  lent  for  Heaven, 
E'en  less  to  use  it  as  an  idle  toy. 
Or  fit  for  Earth's  ambitions,  hopes  or  fears; 
But  keep  and  polish  for  the  King  of  Heaven. 
Behold  thine  opportunity  sublime ! 
To  train  a  soul  immortal  and  divine. 
As  one  of  God's  own  children,  for  his  courts, 
And  almost  mould  it  to  the  image  sweet 
Of  His  dear  Son,  by  sweetness  like  His  own 

The  days  roll  on,  the  uneventful  days 

That  usher  in  those  years,  three  wondrous  years, 

So  full  of  love,  and  grace  and  power  divine. 

So  full  of  light  and  quenchless  hope  for  man. 

Only  the  tragedy  at  Bethlehem 

Displaj'^ed  man's  folly,  cruelty  and  guilt. 

That  blindly  sought  to  thwart  the  will  of  Heaven. 


Book  First — The  Lord  of  Life.  235 

The  cruel  stroke  was  shunned  for  him  it  sought 
By  timely  flight  to  Egypt's  sheltering  care. 

There  Moses  too,  a  type  of  Christ  to  come, 
TJnconcious  lay  in  infant  slumbers  sweet, 
Encompassed  all  around  by  dreadful  foes. 
Less  dread  ye  hideous  monsters  of  the  Nile, 
Than  human  monsters  snuffing  infants'  blood. 
But  mightier  far  the  loving  care  of  Heaven, 
Surrounding  closer  still  that  little  ark. 
And  e'en  more  tender,  and  more  vigilant. 
Than  mother's  love  or  sister's  sleei)less  watch. 

From  Egypt,  soon  the  Lord  recalled  his  Son, 
And  unto  Nazareth,  nestling  in  the  hills, 
A  blest  retreat,  the  holy  family  came. 
Ah,  sweet  the  years  spent  in  this  quiet  home, 
For  nature  spread  her  choicest  beauties  there, 
And  blessed  peace  and  love  their  fragrance  shed 
O'er  all  those  sacred  precincts,  sweeter  far 
Than  all  the  breath  of  "  Araby  the  blest." 

Fair  Nazareth !  how  sweet  thy  soft  repose  ! 
Far  from  the  noise  of  worldly  care  and  strife, 
(Secluded  e'en  from  curious  traveler's  search, 
"Who  journeys  only  on  the  world's  highway,) 
Beached  through  a  cleft  of  rocks  bj^  friendly  feet, 
And  guarded  by  the  all-embracing  hills. 
Thou  shieldest  well  the  childhood  of  our  Lord, 
His  infant  slumbers  and  his  boyish  glee 
Breathe  undisturbed  in  thy  sweet  sheltering  arms. 
Thou  art  forgotten  by  the  world, — unknown, 


236  Bionopsis. 

And  e'en  despised.     The  scornful  questioner  asks 

"Can  any  good  thing  come  from  Nazareth?" 

But  thou  rejoicest  in  thine  own  great  good, 

And  heaven  itself  smiles  lovingly  on  thee. 

The  dreamy  stillness  of  a  summer's  day, 

Unbroken,  save  by  song  of  birds,  or  hum 

Of  droning  insects,  or  the  merry  ring 

Of  childish  laughter  pealing  forth  anon, 

Or  by  the  shepherd's  or  vine-dresser's  voice, 

Besj^eaks  the  heavenly  peace  that  dwells  in  thee. 

Softly  the  sunlight  sleeps  upon  thy  fields. 

Where  ripening  harvests,  waving  in  the  breeze. 

Await  the  reaper's  sickle.     On  the  hills 

The  shifting  shadows  of  the  summer  clouds 

Move  like  the  guardian  spirits  of  the  place, 

And  lend  their  beauty.     In  the  vale  below 

We  view  fair  gardens,  rich  with  fruits  and  flowers, 

And  guarded  each  by  brilliant  cactus  hedge, 

And  road  sides  verdant  with  the  springing  grass. 

And  oft  umbrageous  with  the  fairest  trees, 

The  olive,  orange,  oleander  fair. 

Pomegranate,  almond,  citron,  and  the  fig, 

And  wealth  of  clustering  vines,  while    here  and 

there 
A  white  stone  cottage  shines  amidst  the  green. 
And  yonder  at  the  fountain,  flowing  free. 
Women  and  children  in  their  gay  attire. 
Give  life  and  gladness  to  the  whole  fair  scene. 
The  grace  and  beauty  of  those  mountain  maids 
Are  praised  by  trav'lers  with  united  voice. 


Book  First — Tlie  Lord  of  Lijc.  237 

Here  grew,  in  innocence,  the  holy  child. 

AVhat  pure,  what  deep  delights  entrance  those  hearts, 

Whose  most  exalted  privilege  it  was 

To  have  their  Lord  abide,  as  all  their  own. 

How  sweet  the  music  of  a  childish  voice, 
Its  echoes  thrilling  in  parental  hearts! 
But  far  beyond  all  sweetness  was  his  voice, 
Who,  to  the  innocence  of  childhood  dear, 
Joined  holy  harmlessness,  and  heavenly  grace. 
His  voice  attuned  to  speak  the  praise  of  God ! 
'Tis  sweet  to  watch  a  child's  unfolding  mind; 
But  oh,  ho'w  wonderful  to  hear  the  words, 
From  childish  lips,  of  wisdom  all  divine! 

One  incident  alone  in  holy  writ 

Eeveals  the  boyhood  of  our  honored  Lord, 

But  this  speaks  volumes  to  the  thoughtful  mind. 

Already  he  had  found  his  Father  God ! 

His  human  spiiit  knew  the  truth  sublime. 

That  mystery  of  mysteries,  which  none 

But  he  himself  could  fully  comprehend, 

That  God  in  him  was  "manifest  in  flesh." 

Oh,  wondrous  thought  for  any  human  soul ! 

And  wondrous  too,  that  even  we  may  call 

The  Lord  our  father,  as  adoj)ted  sons. 

This  thought  should  guide  us  as  it  guided  him. 

It  led  him  to  the  temple  of  his  God, 

And  there,  with  venerable  men,  and  learned, 

Absoi'bed  with  questions  sacred  and  profound, 

Tliough  but  a  boy  he  passed  the  fleeting  day. 


238  Bionopsis. 

Nor  marked  its  flight,  while  they,  witli  wonder  heard 
Questions  and  answers  from  a  mind  so  young. 
New  light  beamed  forth  upon  the  sacred  word. 
They  felt  themselves,  though  teachers,  taught  by  him, 
And  some  discerned  a  "teacher  sent  from  God." 

His  parents  find,  when  on  their  homeward  way, 
That  they  have  lost  him  from  their  company, 
And  seek  him  earnestly,  with  sorrowing  hearts. 

The  journey  of  a  day,  so  lightly  made, 
They  anxiously  retrace,  and  when  the  night 
Has  settled  on  the  streets,  so  lone  and  dark. 
The  cry  goes  forth  and  startles  many  a  heart, 
"Ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  give  ear ! 
Oh,  tell  me  where  is  he  my  soul  doth  love?" 

From  many  a  lattice,  curious  eyes  look  forth, 
Surprised  to  see  such  beauty  and  such  grief. 
Then  asks  kind  pity, 

"  O  thou  fairest  one 
Among  all  women,  why  such  depths  of  woe, 
And  '  what  is  thy  beloved  more  than  '  all 
The  loved  ones  of  the  Earth?  " 

"My  love  is  one 
Chiefest  among  ten  thousand,  fairer  far 
Than  all  the  sons  of  Earth,  or  Heaven  itself, 
'  Yea,  altogether  lovely  ! '  heait  and  soul 
Of  gentleness  and  truth,  and  comely  form, 
'Sweeter  and  fairer  than  the  sons  of  men.' 
'  O  tell  me,  sister,  Avlu'ie  my  love  doth  hide?'  " 


Book  First — The  Lord  of  Life.  230 

But  vain  the  question !  empty  the  lei^ly ! 

And  watchmen  rude,  with  smiting  rods,  urge  on 
The  sore  wayfarers,  through  the  deepening  gloom. 

Slow  wears  the  weary  night,  and  one  day  more 
They  search  the  city  through,  with  growing  pain. 
Three  gloomy  anxious  days  they  press  the  search, 
Burdened  with  grief!  all  other  cares  forgot ! 

Find  we  no  lesson  here  %     Or  dost  thou  say 
They  sought  a  son,  and  less  they  could  not  do? 
Ah,  yes  !    They  sought  a  sou.     But  what  of  thee 
Kind  reader? 

Seekest  thou  a  Hidden  One? 
Hast  thou  through  three  distressing  days,  or  years, 
Pursued  the  search  for  one  to  thee  as  dear, 
Yea,  dearer  than  a  son,  thy  Saviour,  God? 
Oh,  "seek  the  Lord  now  while  He  may  be  found." 
So  all  who  know  Him  as  their  loving  Lord, 
Their  heart's  best  love,  will,  sorrowing,  seek  him, 

lost! 
Alas  for  those  who,  having  never  known. 
Forever  lose,  unconscious  of  their  loss ! 
But  now  at  last,  which  should  have  been  the  first, 
The  seekers  reach  the  very  Temple's  courts. 
There  should  we  seek  our  Lord  !  where  He  appoints. 
Amazed  they  find  Him,  with  the  doctors  there ! 
The  sorrowing  mother  clasps  her  son  with  joy, 
Yet  chidingly  she  asks,  "Why,  O  my  son, 
Hast  thou  thus  dealt  with  us  ?  we  sought  thee  long, 
With  sorrowing  hearts,  thy  father  and  myself." 


240  Bionopsis. 

^'  ^How  is  it  that  ye  sought  me? 

Wist  ye  not, 
About  my  Father's  business  I  must  be  ?■ 
Love,  duty,  honor,  all  so  due  to  you 
I  gladly  yield.    My  heavenly  Father's  claims 
Are  still  supreme.     And  in  His  holy  courts 
Ye  might  have  found  me,  where  ye  should  have 
sought." 

This  earliest  utterance  of  the  holy  child 

May  teach  us  all  a  lesson  for  our  lives. 

Not  ripest  age,  nor  most  extensive  lore 

Of  all  philosophers  yields  richer  truth. 

Or  gives  a  i^recept,  for  our  daily  lives, 

More  plain,  more  practical,  or  more  profound. 

"About  my  Father's  business,"  O  my  soul, 
Be  this,  through  life,  my  first,  my  last  concern ! 
Not  ours  to  theorize,  but  learn  from  God 
His  holy  will.    This  wisdom  is  divine. 

"About  ray  Father's  business,"  also  mine 
What  business  can  be  mine,  that  is  not  His? 
Whate'er  of  duty  falls  to  me  to  do 
Is  duty  only  since  He  so  appoints, — 
Not  my  own  schemes,  but  His  allotted  tasks, — 
Tavsks,  if  my  soul  reluctiint  does  His  will, 
8till  seeking  first  her  om'u. — But,  seeking  His, 
Duty  is  also  privilege  and  joy. 

"  A])out  my  Father's  business!"     May  it  be 
My  joy  and  blest  employment,  day  by  day ! 


Book  First —  The  Lord  of  Life.  241 

If,  soon,  in  other  worlds,  'twill  rapture  be 

To  do  His  holy  will,  and  sing  His  praise, 

Should  it  be  deemed,  e'en  here,  an  irksome  task? 

Nay,  even  now  'tis  highest  privilege. 

And  purest  joy,  for  those  who  know  the  Lord  ; 

And  here  brief  opportunity  is  given 

Service  to  yield  impossible  in  Heaven. 

The  fabled  Sybil  half  her  tomes  destroyed. 

Book  after  book,  yet  asked  the  same  high  price, 

For  those  remaining,  first  refused  for  all : 

So,  year  bj'  year  is  blotted  from  our  lives. 

Yet  for  the  last,  God  makes  the  same  high  claim. 

As  for  the  whole;  'tis  that  we  yield  ourselves, 

"Without  reserve,  to  do  his  holy  will ! 

The  loss,  the  irreparable  loss  is  ours. 

If  we  His  offers  finally  refuse. 

And  still  'tis  loss,  irreparable  loss. 

If  e'en  our  earliest  years  are  cast  away. 

To  each  of  sev'n  brief  ages  passed  l^y  man, 

Infancy,  boyhood,  adolescence,  youth. 

The  prime,  the  fall,  and  winter,  of  our  life, 

God  has  assigned  a  secret  all  its  own. 

''  The  secret "  is  to  those  that  "  fear  the  Lord.'' 

Scorned  and  withdrawn  it  is  forever  lost ! 

*'My  Father's  business  !"  what  authority 

Could  bind  me  with  a  stronger  bond  than  His  % 

Or  what  more  sacred,  more  endearing  tie? 

What  business  more  important  for  my  soul  % 

'Tis  not  His  benefit,  but  mine  He  seeks. 

He  wills  my  highest  good.     My  vain  desires 
16 


242  Bii^nopsis. 

Eeacli  after  liiirtful  things,  as  infant  bands 
Would  grasp  the  pretty  flame.     His  ^vatchful  care 
Eestrains  the  effort,  and  forbids  the  wish. 
And  teaches,  oft,  with  wise  and  patient  love. 
By  precept  and  example,  what  is  best. 

The  earliest  business  of  the  opening  mind 
Is  first  to  learn  His  M^ill.     'Tis  plainly  writ 
In  the  blest  volume  of  His  holy  word. 
The  open  page  of  nature  shows  His  praise. 
His  wisdom,  goodness,  and  almighty  power, 
''The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  the  Lord, 
The  firmament  displays  His  handiwork:" 
But  only  in  His  written  word  we  read 
The  glory,  grace,  and  love  of  God  to  man. 
And  there  we  find  his  will,  the  business  taught, 
Which  He  has  deemed  man's  duty,  interest,  joy, 
Enriching  all  our  souls  in  earth  and  heaven. 
Expanding,  filling,  cleansing,  lifting  up, 
And  molding  to  the  image  of  the  Lord. 

"  About  my  Father's  business."     These  four  words 
Tell  the  whole  story  of  Christ's  youthful  years. 
Our  curious  minds  would  gladly  learn  far  more 
Of  incident,  and  speech  and  mighty  deed, 
But  this,  at  least,  may  show  His  daily  life. 

The  highest  mission  of  His  wondrous  life 
Was  still  the  same,  through  all  its  cares  and  toils, 
E'en  to  the  end,  "to  do  His  Father's  will," 
Yet  on  those  days  of  childhood  and  of  youth 
Our  fancy  lingers  still,  and  in  that  home, 


Book  First —  T/ic  l.oni  of  Life.  243 

The  second  Eden  of  our  fallen  world, 

"Would  fondly  dwell ;  for  jieace  and  purity, 

And  heavenly  love,  and  joy  were  dwellers  there, 

And  'tis  a  comfort  to  our  souls  to  think 

That  here,  at  least,  ' '  The  man  of  sorrows ' '  found 

A  pure  delight,  and  gathered  strength  to  bear 

The  grievous  burdens  of  His  later  life. 

Still  do  we  know  and  feel  those  latest  years. 

Though  filled  with  sorrows,  griefs,  and  toils,  and 

cares, 
Were  richer,  broader,  grander,  more  sublime, 
More  precious  in  the  sight  of  God  and  man. 

£e  that  hath  the  So)i  hath  life.    1  John  v.  12. 


lot».v    ujLL-Ttvtsi,     dj-wd     ^kou.<    i.i.vv.ro     (/au  ttxil' ^ttnil  JLlf  t, 
K  3o't\'v%  1,2. 


PROEM. 

O  Father !   whose  glory  illiuninates  heaven 
Beyoud  our  couception,  ineffably  bright, 

A  view  of  that  glory  thy  mercy  hath  given, 
Revealed,  and  yet  vailed,  to  suit  man's  feeble  sight. 

Thy  glory  reflected  on  nature's  bright  pages, 
The  earth  and  the  firmament  daily  declare. 

Which  show,  to  the  vision  of  children  and  sages, 
Thy  wisdom,  and  power,  and  bounteous  care. 

Far  greater  the  gloiy  of  Christ  pure  and  holy, 
Eedeeming  lost  sinners  from  ruin  and  sin, 

Though  outwardly  humble,  plebeian  and  lowly, 
All  glorious,  lovely,  and  kingly  within. 

In  Him  we  see  God  manifested  in  beauty, 
Disrobed  of  His  bi-ight  unendurable  light, 

We  see  the  true  glory  of  faith,  love  and  duty, 
And  view  Him  our  Saviour  with  love  and  delight. 

247 


BOOK   SECOND. 

Hast  tlioii,  dear  reader,  ever,  through  the  night, 
Watched  the  iinfokling  of  the  Cereus  fair  ■? 
Long  mouths  had  passed  iu  preparation  slow, 
While  patient  nature  sought  her  destined  end ; 
But  "when  the  fulness  of  the  time  was  come," 
Just  at  the  moment  fixed,  the  midnight  hour, 
A  vision  strange  appeared,  enrobed  in  white — 
No  ghostly  vision,  voiceless  though  it  be, 
But  tangible,  and  yet  so  delicate. 
So  wondrous  fair,  it  seemed  too  frail  to  touch. 
E'en  as  the  snow  tlake  crystals,  fine  and  white, 
A  living  presence,  so  removed  from  all 
The  common  round  of  ordinary  life. 
It  seemed  some  visitor  from  other  spheres. 
With  some  deep  message  from  the  power  divine. 
A  few  brief  hours  it  lingered,  then  was  gone! 

So  blossomed  out  the  life  of  Christ  at  last. 
If  fair  His  infancy,  oh,  fairer  far, 
Beyond  the  power  of  poor  weak  hearts  to  tell. 
The  full  unfolding  of  that  life  sublime. 
And  yet  'twas  in  the  niidiiiglit  of  that  life, — 
Not  in  the  lovely  dawn  of  infancy, 
Nor  in  the  sunshine  of  His  riper  years, 
But  when  the  shadows  deep  of  hninun  guilt 
Began  to  gather  i-ound  His  sinless  head. 
When  Itlaek  ingratitude,  nnd  scorn,  and  hate, 

249 


250  liionopsis. 

Cast  gloom  upon  his  tender  loving  heart — 

"  A  man  of  sorrows,  and  acquainted  well 

With  grief/'  He  showed  the  glory  of  His  soul. 

O  matchless  beauty!  pure  and  nndefiled, 

Of  perfect  symmetry,  most  delicate, 

And  sweeter  than  the  fairest  flower  that  blows ! 

O  fairest  one  among  the  sons  of  men  ! 

Thy  soul  is  formed  for  love !  pure,  holj^  love ! 

Thrice  happy  heart  that  claims  thee  for  its  own ! 

"  O  my  beloved,  thou  art  truly  mine! 

And  I  am  wholly  thine  ! '' 

Ye  who  have  known 
The  pure  and  deep  delight  of  wedded  souls, 
Wedded  in  truth,  and  not  in  name  or  form — 
Thou  who  hast  looked,  with  deepest,  purest  joj-. 
Into  the  eyes,  that,  while  they  read  thy  soul, 
Revealed  in  their  own  depths,  so  pure  and  briglil 
A  sanctuary  sweet,  enshrining  thee — 
Ye  who  have  felt  the  soul  enrapturing  power 
Of  mutual  love,  like  ocean's  mighty  tide 
Without  a  check,  resistless,  deep  and  pure, 
But  all  unnoticed  by  the  busy  world — 
Ye  may  conceive  the  bliss  of  that  pure  love. 
When  Christ,  "the  well  beloved  Son  of  God," 
Reveals  Himself  the  spouse  of  His  redeemed, 
"The  Holy,  Harmless,  Undefiled,"  and  crowneil 
With  every  grace  that  beautifies  the  soul. 
Thus  blossomed  out  the  love  of  God  to  man, 
And  also,  loveliness  of  character. 
To  win  all  hearts  once  ])uiitied  from  sin. 


Book  Second — TJie  Life  Manifested.  251 

Not  impioved  iuuocence  alone  was  his, 

But  grace,  triumphant  o'er  severest  tests; 

Xor  gentleness  and  tenderness  most  sweet. 

But  manly  strength  to  meet  the  mightiest  foes: 

Not  merely  charity  for  erring  souls, 

But  justice  stern,  rebuking  high  born  guilt; 

Nor  yearning  lovx  for  mortals  lost  in  sin, 

But  faithful  truth,  that  warned  of  future  woe ; 

Nor  dove-like  harmlessness  that  injures  none, 

But  holy  zeal  that  sacrilege  could  scourge  ; 

Nor  condescension  even  to  the  least. 

But  dignity  that  held  the  proud  in  awe; 

Nor  sweet  simplicity  that  knew  no  guile, 

But  wisdom  most  profound,  that  knew  all  men  ; 

Not  knowledge  only,  to  instruct  the  mind. 

But  sense  most  practical  to  guide  the  life ; 

Nor  righteousness  that  yields  to  men  tiieir  dues, 

But  purity  of  heart  and  holiness, 

That  gives  the  love  supremely  due  to  God. 

When,  oh  my  friends,  "did  e'er  such  graces  meet  °? " 

In  any  single  character  'mong  men  ? 

Can  history  such  excellence  display  % 

Or  show  such  perfect  balance  of  the  whole  % 

Poor  mediocrity  may  show  no  vice, 

But  shining  merits  have  their  shadows  too. 

And  virtues  oft  are  balanced  ill  by  vice, 

Or  sometimes  fulness,  by  most  painful  void. 

Thus  Socrates  himself,  whose  vii'tues  rare 

(Though  groping  in  the  dark  for  light  divine) 

Endeared  him  even  to  the  sons  of  God, 


252  Bumojis/s. 

Confessed  by  arguments,  as  well  as  life, 
His  painful  distance  from  the  one  Supreme, 
Whom  dimly  he  discerned.     Alas !   how  far 
All  speculative  thought  must  ever  fall 
(E'en  as  an  arrow  speeded  towards  the  sun) 
Below  the  sure  and  heavenward  flight  of  him, 
Who,  like  an  eagle,  soars  till  lost  to  sight, — 
Nay !  like  an  angel  mounts  to  God  himself! 
Not  like  a  stranger  he  addressed  his  God, 
He  sent  no  cock  to  Esculapius, 
But  as  a  son,  with  father  near  and  dear, 
Held  high  communion,  intinmte  and  sweet. 

And  so  He  spake  with  all  authority, 
As  one  who  knew  His  great  commission  well. 
No  weak  and  painful  questionings  were  his, 
No  doubt  e'er  dimmed  the  clearness  of  His  views. 
Not  like  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  He  strove 
To  weave  the  shreds  of  truth  to  fit  some  creed. 
He  came,  the  very  "  Word  of  God ' '  Himself, 
And  said  "I  am  the  Way,  the  Truth,  the  Life! '' 

Our  Lord  was  '^  glorious  in  Ms  holinessJ^ 
'Twas  this  distinguished  him  above  all  men, 
Philosophers,  philanthropists  or  saints. 
An  excellence  unprized  by  men  of  earth. 
But  far  more  precious,  in  the  sight  of  God, 
Than  aught  of  good  achievable  by  man. 
'Twas  not  the  holiness  of  outward  forms. 
Of  rites  or  sanctimonious  ways,  or  rules 
Of  harsh  asceticism,  cvnic  scorn 


Book  Second — TIic  Life  Manifested.  253 

Of  limnaii  Joys,  or  isoliitioii  stem 

From  social  life  (mere  selfishness  disguised). 

'Twas  perfect  purity  of  heart  and  life, 

With  faith  and  love  supremely  due  to  God, 

And  constant  study  of  His  lioly  will, 

Not  as  an  irksome  task,  but  truest  joy, 

His  life's  great  work,  who  utters 

"  Lo  !  I  come. 

I'the  volume  of  the  book  'tis  writ  of  me, 

For  I  delight  to  do  thy  will  O  God." 

'Twas  also  truest,  kindest  love  to  men. 

And  gentle  charity  for  human  faults, 

And  genial  sympathy  with  j  03^  and  grief, 

Or  at  the  wedding  feast,  or  at  the  tomb. 

• 
His  holiness  essential  goodness  breathed, 

A  goodness  sprung  from  no  mere  human  source, — 

Else  had  it  been  a  common  thing  with  men — 

'Twas  truly  said  "  there  is  none  good  but  one. 

And  that  is  God;"  yet  Christ  himself  was  good, 

And  not  with  mere  humanity  to  man, 

But  with  the  tenderest  love  for  fallen  souls, 

And  love  to  God,  spring  of  His  holiness, 

A  glorious  holiness,  whose  perfect  robe 

Enwrapped  him  as  a  halo  all  divine. 

Yet  this  was  glory  unperceived  by  men 
Of  thoughtless,  worldly,  low  and  sinful  minds. 
Such  could  not  see  the  king  in  His  disguise. 
The  world,  tho'  "made  by  Him,"  discerned   Him 
not. 


2  54  Bionopsis. 

He  sought  His  own,  ''His  own  received  Him  not." 
But  unto  those  whose  faith  and  love  perceived 
His  character  divine,  and  saw  in  Him 
The  beauty  of  ti'ue  holiness  revealed, 
And  so  received  Him  as  their  Lord  divine, 
Striving  to  be  like  Him,  "  He  gave  the  power 
That  they  should  also  be  the  Sons  of  God." 

Humbly,  yet  not  unheralded,  our  Lord 

Entered  upon  the  labor  of  His  life ; 

Not  with  the  heralding  of  trumpet  loud, 

With  pompous  pageant  blaring  through  the  streets, 

Or  bannered  hosts,  arrayed  for  dreadful  war, 

With  burnished  weapons  glittering  in  the  sun. 

(Such  pomp  may  daze  the  thoughtless  multitude, 

But  truer  glory  meets  discerning  ej^es.) 

His  heralding  was  but  a  lonely  voice, 

Crying  to  strangers  in  the  wilderness. 

"Prepare  God's  way !     Make  straight  His  paths! 
Make,  in  your  hearts,  a  highway  for  our  God ! " 

To  Him  great  crowds  go  forth,  from  every  side. 

By  various  motives  led,  by  true  faith  some, 

Others  by  idle  curiosity. 

But  most  inspired  by  vague,  yet  striving  liopes 

Of  wondrous  things  to  come,  things  oft  foietold 

By  seers  and  kings  in  ages  most  remote. 

And  now  determined  by  the  prophecy 

Of  Daniel's  weeks  and  days,  as  come  at  last ! 

Momentous  era  in  the  course  of  time  ! 

The  universal  expectation  looked 


Book  Second — 'J7tc  Life  Manifested.  255 

To  hail  a  king  of  woiulroiis  warlike  power, 
To  break  the  yoke  of  bondage  from  His  friends, 
Subduing  mighty  foes,  dethroning  kings. 
And  ruling  nations  with  an  iron  rod. 

Subdued  excitement  fills  each  longing  heart, 

A  smothered  flame,  that  only  needs  a  fan 

To  kindle  conflagration  through  the  land. 

With  small  compunction  now  men  leave  their  homes, 

As  if  their  country  summoned  them  to  arms. 

The  wheels  of  worldly  life  stand  still  awhile : 

The  farmer  in  the  furrow  leaves  his  plow, 

The  busy  wife  forgets  her  usual  cares, 

The  chaff  ring  merchant  leaves  the  noisy  mart, 

The  student  drops  his  books,  the  scribe  his  pen. 

Cities  are  changed  to  silent  solitudes  ; 

The  desert  waste  resounds  with  eager  life. 

But  wonder  at  the  rough  clad  prophet's  words 
Fills  every  heart.     He  does  not  spare  their  sins. 
To  judgment,  not  to  victory  they  come, 
And  penitence,  not  triumph  fills  their  souls. 
Pierced  to  the  quick  by  conscious  guilt  they  stand. 
With  grief  confess,  and  from  the  prophet  seek 
Baptism  for  remission  of  their  sins. 
And  now  in  mute  expectancy  they  wait 
And  listen  to  the  prophet,  saying 

"I 
Baptize  indeed  with  water,  but  the  Lord 
Who  followeth  me,  the  latchet  of  whose  shoes 
I  know  myself  unworthy  to  unloose, 


256  Bionopsis. 

Cometh  with  iiio,  and  with  the  Holy  Ghost, 
Whose  fan  is  in  his  hand,  most  throughly 
To  purge  His  floor,  and  gather  in  the  wheat, 
But  burn  tlie  chaff  with  fire  unquenchable  ! ' ' 

These  solemn  words  they  treasure  in  their  hearts. 
With  musings  deep  of  what  the  jjrophet  means. 

Wlien  lo !  a  manly  stranger  draweth  near. 
Arrayed  in  simple  garb,  a  seamless  robe, 
On  foot  and  unattended,  and  alone, 
To  seek  baptism  at  the  prophet's  hands. 

No  sign  of  rank  or  wealth  or  lordly  power 
Marks  Him  above  the  humble  multitude. 
No  "form  or  comeliness"  of  rich  attire 
Arrests  the  gaze  of  those  who  only  see 
The  outward  form  and  visage  of  mankind. 
''A  tender  plant,"  a  root  from  parched  ground 
He  springs,  unnoticed  by  the  busy  world, 
Among  the  stately  trees  of  human  jjower. 
Nor  does  He  shine  with  bright  supernal  light, 
Credential  unbelief  could  scarce  refuse. 
Reluctant  still,  discerning  day  by  day, 
And  yet  there  glows  a  glory  in  His  looks, 
A  glory  not  of  earth,  but  all  divine, 
The  innate  majesty  of  mighty  power, 
The  conscious  dignity  of  heavenly  birth. 
And  purity  of  soul  unstained  by  sin, 
With  sweetness,  gentleness  and  winning  grace, 
Of  one  whose  love  goes  forth  to  all  mankind. 


Book  Second— IVie  Life  Manifested.  257 

The  sons  of  light,  whose  wisdom  may  discern 
Celestial  truth,  with  j-everence  bow  their  heads, 
Seeing  at  least  a  holy  prophet  pass. 
And  e'en  the  wicked  feel  some  conscious  awe, 
As  wild  beasts  crouch  beneath  the  human  eye. 

And  when  the  prophet  sees  Him  drawing  near, 
To  seek  baptismal  rites,  he  cries  aloud, 

"Tis  I  have  need  to  be  baptized  of  thee  ! 
And  comest  thou  to  me!  *' 

But  He  replies, 
"  Yet  suffer  it  to  be  so  now :  for  thus 
It  well  becometh  us  to  quite  fulfill 
All  righteousness,  according  to  God's  word.'' 
Listen,  ye  thoughtful  men  who  seek  to  live 
By  virtue  of  your  own,  or  e'en  to  win 
True  piety  itself,  and  yet  neglect 
The  outward  rites  appointed  by  the  Lord. 
Are  ye  more  perfect  than  the  Lord  Himself! 
Despise  ye  then  these  channels  of  His  grace  ? 
Do  ye,  more  wisely,  count  them  things  of  naught  ? 
Or  spurn  ye  e'en  the  very  grace  itself, 
Which  those  receive  who  really  trust  their  Lord? 
Seek  ye  the  Lord,  while  scorning  His  commands 
Dare  ye,  l)y  your  example,  counteract 
The  lesson  He  by  His  example  taught ! 

But  look  !  the  rite  fulfilled,  heaven  owns  tlie  act ! 
Behold  the  opening  sky  !  light  gleaming  througli ! 
See  from  the  loftiest  arch  a  figure  bright 
As  of  a  gentle  dove,  with  outsi)read  wings  ! 


258  Bionopsis. 

Lo!  it  descends  upon  the  stranger's  head 
And,  there  abiding,  fills  Him  fall  of  light ! 
And  hark  !  does  thunder  burst  from  cloudless  sky ' 
My  trembling  soul!  it  is  the  voice  of  God! 

He  says 

"This  is  my  well  beloved  Son  I " 

Heart,  still  thy  throbs  !    O  long  expected  One  ! 
Hope  of  all  ages,  art  thou  come  at  last  ? 
And  art  thou  e'en  the  very  Son  of  God? 

And  yet  the  voice  speaks  on !     Be  still  my  soul 
And  catch  each  syllable  that  falls  from  God  I 
God  owns  his  Son  ! 

"  In  Him  I  am  well  pleased  ! ' ' 

O  may  my  sonship  thus  be  owned  at  last ! 
Yet  even  now  His  spirit  rests  on  those 
Who  give  themselves  to  Him  to  do  His  will, — 
Fulfilling  e'en  the  forms  of  righteousness, — 
And  like  a  dove,  sweet  messenger  of  heaven, 
He  brings  the  olive  branch  of  peace  with  God! 

Thus  consecrated  and  thus  fortified 
By  joy  and  strength  directly  sent  from  heaven. 
The  love  of  Him  whose  favor  fills  with  life, 
The  Lord  begins  His  great  and  arduous  work 

Behold,  again,  ye  wise  men  of  the  earth, 
True  wisdom  in  th'  example  of  the  Lord. 
Go  ye  not  forth  to  warfare  %  dread  ye  not 


Book  Second — The  Life  Manifested.  259 

The  awful  power  of  Satan's  demon  hosts'? 

Behold  ye  not  the  battlefield  of  life 

Strown  with  their  victims  over-thrown  and  lost! 

With  clouds  of  sin  and  shame  the  world  is  dark 
That  should  be  radiant  with  the  light  of  God. 
And  principalities  and  powers  contend, 
With  vast  resources  of  the  nether  world, 
To  keep  their  cmj)ire  here,  enslaving  men. 
How  then  must  ye  their  hellish  power  resist  % 
And  by  what  means  the  final  victory  gain? 
Almighty  power  alone  can  victory  give, 
And  grace  alone  may  fit  you  for  the  strife. 
Alas  for  those  who  venture  forth  alone 
Upon  the  field  of  life,  nor  dream  of  foes 
In  ambush  hid,  unseen  by  mortal  eyes; 
Yea,  even  trust  their  flattering  promises, 
Nor  seek  the  help  and  guidance  of  their  God. 

Follow  your  Saviour  in  the  wilderness. 
Far  from  the  dwellings  of  His  fellow-men, 
From  home  and  kindred,  far  from  human  cares, 
Conducted  by  God's  spirit,  He  retires. 
How  earnestly  He  seeks  His  Father's  face! 

Admiring  nature  views,  and  humbly  spreads 
Her  varied  charms  round  her  incarnate  God. 
In  tenijiorary  exile  now  she  sees 
The  king's  own  Son.     She  also  sees  the  man, 
Belov'd  of  Heaven,  unrecognized  on  earth, 
But  pre-ordained  to  bear  the  sins  of  men. 


26o  Bio  nop  sis. 

The  very  beasts  in  reverence  gaze  awhile, 

Intruding  not  upon  His  solitude. 

The  sun,  that  calls  the  world  to  labor,  looks 

At  morn,  and  eve,  and  from  the  height  of  noon. 

But  dares  not  summon  Him  to  worldly  toil. 

(His  days  of  manual  toil  were  well  fulfilled, 

And  now  to  nobler  work  He  gives  His  soul.) 

The  gentle  moon  sends  forth  her  silver  rays, 

Glist'ning  among  the  embowering  foliage, 

That  shields  from  day's  fierce  heat,  and  night's  chill 

dews, 
And  falling  on  His  forehead  lifted  up 
In  prayer  to  God,  reveals  a  beauty  there 
More  fit  for  heaven,  than  this  poor  sinful  world. 
The    twinkling    stars    look   down  from  their  dim 

heights 
To  witness  His  devotion,  and  to  aid 
His  spirit's  heavenward  flight.     The  very  trees 
In  breathless  stillness  stand,  and  upward  point 
Above  the  shadows  of  the  silent  night, 
To  yon  fair  world  where  darkness  cannot  dwell. 
How  sweet  this  deep  repose,  this  solemn  peace. 
Amid  the  rush  and  rumble  of  the  world, 
The  busy  world,  so  full  of  trifling  cares. 
How  sweet  the  solitude  and  silence  here, 
The  sacred  stillness  that  pervades  the  scene 
(Even  to  yon  fair  dome  of  azure  sky), 
The  sweet,  sublime,  and  awful  majesty 
Of  glorious  night!     It  brings  our  willing  souls 
Unto  the  very  vewtibule  of  heaven. 


Book  Second — The  Life  Manifested.  261 

Yet  sometimes  you  may  hear  a  sighing  sound 
Among  the  branches,  when  the  breath  of  eve 
Breathes  softly  o'er  us,  whispering  low  of  one 
The  gentle  Holy  Spirit,  often  grieved 
By  human  guilt,  yet  yearning  over  men. 

How  fair  is  nature!     Oh,  how  wondrous  fair, 
Whene'er  she  whispers  to  our  souls,  of  God ! 
The  Saviour,  conscious  of  the  influence  sweet, 
Eejoices  in  His  God,  and  sees  in  all 
These  standing  miracles  of  power  divine, 
The  handiwork  of  Him  His  soul  doth  love. 

But  chiefly  now  such  precious  words  as  those 
That  fell  from  heaven,  "  My  well  beloved  Son," 
In  whom  I  am  well  pleased,"  delight  His  soul. 
But,  with  His  joy,  there  comes  a  solemn  sense 
Of  trials,  griefs,  and  conflicts  yet  to  come. 
Constraining  Him  to  cry  aloud  to  God 
For  strength  proportioned  to  His  mighty  task. 
With  patient  trust  He  waits  His  Father's  time, 
And  looks  for  succor  in  His  Father's  way. 
Full  forty  days  of  fasting  leave  Him  faint, 
And  Satan  seeks  his  opportunity. 

What  guise  he  uses  or  what  form  assumes, 
And  dares  to  hope  the  Saviour  to  deceive, 
We  may  not  tell. 

How  comes  he  now  to  thee, 
O  tempted  one  ?    In  spiritual  form, 
Unseen  by  mortal  eyes,  suggesting  thoughts 


262  Bionopsis. 

Of  strong  desire  for  all  forbidden  things, 
And  doubts,  and  questionings  of  sacred  truth, 
With  specious  pleadings,  lies  and  sophistries, 
Causing  the  worse  to  seem  the  better  parti 

With  equal  art  he  tempts  the  Son  of  God. 
He  pleads  the  natural  innocent  desire 
For  food  to  eat,  to  one  Mith  hunger  faint. 
Saying 

"  Command  these  stones  to  turn  to  bread!  " 

What  harm  could  be  in  this  %  to  speak  a  word 

To  satisfy  His  hunger,  save  His  life, 

Test  His  own  power  and  God's  preserving  care? 

'Tis  first  to  things  that  seem  most  innocent 

He  tempts,  and  pleads,  "What  harm  can  be  in  this?" 

Thus  does  the  crafty  one  insinuate 

A  doubt  of  God's  paternal  mindfulness 

Of  things  most  needful  for  His  children's  life. 

And  thus  lie  wal^ens  murmurs  and  distrust, 

And  tempts  to  acts  which  God  cannot  approve. 

So  in  besieged  Samaria  hear  them  ask, 

"  Why  should  we  any  longer  wait  for  God!" 

But  Jesus  answers, 

"  Not  by  bread  alone 
Man  liveth,  but  by  every  word  of  God  !  " 

O  Lord,  may  our  souls  learn,  from  this  thy  word. 

More  than  our  necessary  food  to  love 

The  "  word  of  God,"  and  by  its  precepts  live. 


Book  Second —  TJte  Life  Afajtifested.  263 

But,  thus  at  first  repulsed,  the  Tempter  takes 
A  stolen  weapon  from  the  word  of  God. 

And  now  by  some  mysterious  spirit  force 

( Was't  by  imagination's  subtle  power  ? 

For  like  a  flash  of  light  it  shows  us  things 

In  darkness  hid,  or  quick  transports  our  souls 

To  other  ages,  and  to  distant  worlds.) 

He  leads  the  Saviour  to  a  pinnacle 

Of  God's  fair  temple  at  Jerusalem. 

Where  towering  up,  far  from  the  vale  below, 

It  seemed  a  snowy  mountain  to  the  eye, 

Then  pointing  downward  from  the  dizzy  height, 

He  said, 

"  Now  cast  thyself  at  once  from  hence! 
'Tis  written  'He  shall  give  His  angels  charge 
To  keep  thee,  and  to  bear  thee  in  their  hands. 
With  watchful  care,  lest  thou,  at  any  time, 
Should  even  dash  ih.y  foot  against  a  stone.'  " 

O  cunning  Tempter  !  when  the  trial  fails 
To  temj)t  to  unbelief,  and  cold  distrust, 
Thy  next  attempt  is  piously  to  urge. 
To  wild  presumption's  opposite  extreme. 

Christ  says, 

"  Thou  shalt  not  tempt  the  Lord  thy  God," 

Then  to  a  mountain  wondrous  high  the  Lord 
He  seemed  to  lead,  and,  in  a  moment's  time, 
He  showed  him  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world, 
With  all  their  glory,  pomp,  and  pride  and  power, 


264  Bionopsis. 

And  said, 

''  All  this  I  give  to  thee,  if  thou 
Wilt  fall  and  worship  me,  to  do  my  will." 

Oh,  strong  temptation  to  the  human  heart ! 

Nor  is  the  tempting  offer  idly  made, 

For  Satan's  empire  o'er  a  guilty  world 

Is  co-extensive  with  the  race  of  man. 

For  those  who  serve  him  he  has  great  rewards, 

Enticing,  dazzling,  ravishing  the  soul. 

And  if  an  earthly  kingdom  Christ  now  sought 

By  arts  that  please  the  Godless  multitude. 

He  soon  might  reign  a  universal  king. 

But  oh,  how  infinitely  great  His  aim. 

Contrasted  with  th'  ambitions,  hopes  and  fears 

Of  worldly  men.     The  kingdom  He  desires 

Is  not  of  this  vain  world,  not  built  on  force, 

Nor  marked  by  outward  pomp  and  vain  pretense. 

He  seeks  His  empire  in  true  loving  souls, 

Emancipated,  purified,  redeemed, 

And  made  triumphant  over  sin  and  death. 

He  seeks  once  more  to  bring  rebellious  man 

To  true  allegiance  to  His  rightfnl  Lord  ; 

''  For  other  lords  have  had  dominion  "  here. 

And  misery  and  death  have  reigned  with  sin. 

Now  since  this  foul  temptation  plainly  shows 
Its  hateful  source,  the  Saviour's  holy  soul 
Is  greatly  moved,  e'en  to  its  lowest  depths. 
Indignant  and  abhorrent,  loud  He  cries, 


Book  Second—  77ie  Life  Manifested.  265 

"  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan !     It  is  writ 
That  thou  shalt  worship  only  God  the  Lord  ! 
Him  only  shalt  thou  serve!" 

Now  Satan  flies, 
Discovered,  baffled,  overthrown  and  scoi-ned  ! 

Oh,  may  this  triumph  teach  us  all  to  win 
The  greatest  victory  to  mortals  given. 
Not  over  "  flesh  and  blood,''  with  brutal  force, 
But  "over  principalities,  aiul  powers,'' 
And  wicked  spirits  thioned  in  places  high. 

Now  angels  come  with  loving  joyful  haste, 
To  minister  to  their  beloved  Lord. 
Revealed  in  light  and  beauty,  lo!  they  stand. 
And  reverently  bow  before  their  king. 

His  hunger  well  enjoys  the  heavenly  f*  ast. 
But  richer  far  the  bliss  that  fills  His  soul 
At  this  new  token  of  His  Father's  love, 
Crowning  His  triumph  o'er  His  hellish  foe. 

Rejoice,  O  earth,  at  this  great  victory ! 
(Far  less  Issus,  Pharsalia,  Waterloo  I ) 
A  triumph  over  hell  for  all  mankind  ! 

'Twas  needful  that  the  second  Adam  stand, 
Where  fell  the  first,  before  the  Tempter's  wiles, 
Each  representing  all  the  human  race ; 
For  "as  in  Adam  all  men  once  have  died, 
So  all  in  Jesus  Christ  are  made  alive." 
Suspended,  for  a  time,  the  sentence  dread, 


266  Bionopsis. 

That  dooms  to  instant  and  eternal  death, 
Men  still  live  out  their  span  of  earthly  life, 
And  have  once  more  the  opportunity 
Eternal  life  and  blessedness  to  gain. 
Each  for  himself  the  Tenijiter  now  must  meet 
To  prove  His  choice  of  evil  or  of  good, 
And  who  would  choose  the  evil  for  itself, 
Save  those  already  willing  slaves  of  hell  ? 

Temptation's  strength  must  lie  in  its  deceit. 

Which  makes  the  bad  seem  innocent  and  good. 

Yet  great  the  danger  now  to  fallen  man. 

Too  easily  deceived,  because  his  heart, 

To  evil  now  inclined,  prefers  the  choice 

By  Adam  made  of  seeming  earthly  good, 

To  spiritual  good  conferred  by  heaven ; 

Prefers  the  tree  of  sinful  knowledge  here. 

To    "knowing"    "soon,"    "e'en    as    ourselves  ai'C 

known ; " 
Prefers  the  wisdom  by  the  TemiJter  taught, 
Tliough  "  earthly,  sensual,  devilish,"  vain,  and  false, 
To  precepts  of  the  Infinitely  Wise. 
''Deceitful  more  than  all  things"  is  His  heart. 
Unchecked  by  heaven  'tis  "desperately  bad." 
Yet  God  can  give  the  victory  to  those 
That  choose  the  right,  and  seek  His  grace  divine. 

From  triumph  o'er  the  Tempter  in  His  soul, 
The  Lord  went  forth  to  meet  him  in  the  world. 
And  overthrow  His  empire  o'er  mankind. 
O  sad  and  dreary  empire !    Lord,  how  long 


Book  Second — The  Life  Manifested.  267 

Shall  Satan  reign,  and  j^ly  his  hellish  arts! 

How  long  shall  sin  and  sorrow,  death  and  woe, 

Hold  carnival  among  the  sons  of  men  ? 

How  long  shall  God,  the  King  of  Righteousness, 

Be  hated  and  defied  in  His  own  realms? 

How  long  shall  wickedness  and  folly  reign, 

And  senseless  stocks  be  raised  in  place  of  God  % 

How  long  shall  mammon  cheat  the  hearts  of  in  en, 

With  worldly  wealth  and  joys,  in  place  of  heaven  1 

How  dark  and  dreadful  Satan's  mighty  i)om«m" 

O'er  this  fair  world  !     How  deep  his  thraldom  Aile ! 

And  no  mere  mortal  may  his  throne  o'erthrow. 
Nor  meant  he  by  his  subtle  promise  made 
("All  this  I  give,  if  thou  wilt  worship  me," 
The  kingdoms  and  the  glory  of  the  world) 
To  yield  his  kingdom  to  its  rightful  Lord. 
But  Christ,  refusing  aught  of  Satan's  gifts, 
Eefusing  e'en  the  kingdoms  of  the  world, 
As  lord  lieutenant  at  the  serpent's  hand, 
Prepared  to  overthrow  his  kingdom  proud. 
Proclaiming  wide  the  universal  king, 
And  saying  unto  sinful  men 

"  Repent; 
The  kingdom  true  of  heav'u  is  now  at  hand." 

Not  by  the  force  of  arms,  or  warlike  hosts. 
But  by  the  mighter  force  of  truth  and  love, 
He  sought  to  build  the  kingdom  of  the  Lord. 
Sure  it  had  been  an  easj'^  task  to  win 
The  multitudes  to  choose  Him  as  their  king, 


268  Bionopsis. 

And  drill  them  into  engines  vast  and  strong, 
Fit  implements  of  Moloch's  bloody  power, 
Or  double-headed  Janus,  or  of  Mars, 
Urged,  like  the  dreadful  car  of  "  Juggernaut 
('Lord  of  tlm  world'  a  frightful  idol  god),'' 
Eelentless  over  precious  human  forms 
Made  in  the  image  of  the  living  God ! 

O  dreadful  war !  with  all  thy  pomp  and  pride. 
Thou  servest  Satan's  hellish  hate  of  men, 
And  makest  men  thy  instruments  of  wrath. 
Lo!  king-like  men,  endowed  with  gifts 
Of  reason,  love,  and  power  almost  divine, 
Are  made  the  parts  of  this  immense  machine, 
That  like  a  soulless  dragon,  glaring  bright. 
With  many  hues,  yet  horrid,  fierce. 
And  bristling  dire  with  death,  moves  winding  on, 
"With  brazen  clamor  through  the  crowded  streets. 
Justice,  or  direst  wrong,  and  cruel  wrath. 
Alike  it  serves^  obedient  to  one  will. 
Perchance  of  patriot,  wise,  and  good,  and  true. 
Who  for  his  country  cheerfully  would  die, 
Perchance  of  mere  adventurer  bold,  and  bad, 
Eeady,  for  self,  to  rule  or  wreck  a  world ; — 
Or  e'en  of  crazy  king,  like  Kussian  Paul. 

Christ  chose  a  force  to  build  His  kingdom  fair, 
Of  wondrous  power  to  move  the  souls  of  men. 
The  loving  word  proclaimed  by  living  voice, 
The  force  of  uttered  truth,  tho'  oft  despised 
As  "foolishness  of  preaching''  by  the  world, 
Yet  "  mighty  through  ^\q  Lord  to  pulling  down 


Book  Second — The  Life  Manifested.  269 

Strongholds  of  siu  aud  Satau,  casting  down 
Imaginations  vain,  and  everj'thing 
Itself  exaUing  'gainst  the  living  God,'' 
The  weapons  of  His  warfare  were  not  forged 
Bj'  hellish  fires  to  drink  the  blood  of  men. 
Conceived  by  love  divine,  and  framed  in  heaven 
As  holy  oracles  imparting  life, 
They  all  were  aimed  to  save  the  sonls  of  men. 

Lo!  Christ  Himself  this  holy  office  bears, 
The  Sou  of  God  thus  condescending  here 
To  be  a  preacher  (though  despised  h^  men). 
To  serve  the  Lord,  and  save  and  bless  mankind. 

Come  join  the  multitudes  who  follow  Clirist, 
A  plain  wayfarer  through  His  native  land, 
Accustomed  to  address  the  wayside  crowds, 
In  simple  talks,  first  healing  all  their  sick ; 
He  now  beholds  a  more  extensive  field, 
A  peoi)le  ready  for  the  "  \Yord  of  God." 
The  sick  in  body  were  a  favored  few- 
Had  they  alone  received  His  healing  touch. 
They  were  indeed  but  few  compared  with  those 
Whose  souls  requii-e  the  balm  of  heavenly  grac<s 
All,  all  are  sick  with  sin !     And  he  alone, 
The  Great  Physician,  brings  the  remedy. 

We  follow  with  the  crowd,  an  eager  crowd. 
Yet  not  engaged  with  common  thoughts  and  aims, 
To  see  a  passing  show,  or  while  away 
An  idle  hour,  or  Min  some  worldly  joy, — 
With  solemn  jiurpose  we  desire  to  hear 


2  -JO  Bionopsis. 

The  truths  of  heaven,  fioiii  one  by  heaven  ilhimed, 
Who  comes  the  heavenly  kingdom  to  proclaim. 

So  great  the  multitude  but  few  can  see 
The  mighty  prophet.     Few  can  catch  His  words. 
But  look !     We  see  one  leave  the  crowded  vale. 
Is't  He?    It  is !     He  climbs  the  rocky  steeps ! 
Come !  follow  me ! 

Here  at  this  loftier  height, 
Near  where  He  pauses  (glad  to  be  so  near, 
Though  scores  still  stand  between  us  and  the  Lord) 
Here  may  we  view  the  multitude  that  fill 
The  mount  and  vale  below. 

Our  thoughts  run  back 
To  Ebal  and  to  Gerizim,  where  once 
Our  sires  pronounced  the  blessing  and  the  curse. 
The  tribes  of  Israel  were  gathered  there, 
A  mighty  host,  that  filled  th'  extensive  plain, 
And  o'er  them  swept  the  voice  of  hope  or  doom, 
That  back  and  forth  surged  strong  from  mount  to 

mount. 
Like  winds  of  heav'n  breathing  of  balm  and  peace, 
Or  wailing  forth  the  misery  of  the  lost ! 
And  all  the  multitude  pronounced  ameu ! 

Less  awful  now  the  sweet  solemnity 

That  seems  to  consecrate  both  earth  and  sky. 

Here  in  this  solitary  wilderness. 

Our  homes  forgot,  we  lift  our  thoughts  on  high. 

Tlie  earth  itself  puts  on  a  heavenly  garb; 

The  peaceful  landscape,  stretching  far  away, 


Book  Second — The  Life  Manifested.  271 

Gives  uot  a  single  bint  of  sin  or  woe ; 

And  through  the  vault  of  heaven,  which  seems  so 

near, 
We  feel  that  God  is  searching  all  our  souls. 
One  spirit  now  pervades  the  multitude, 
A  silent  and  attentive  company, 
Who  wait  the  voice  of  Him  who  speaks  from  heaven. 
Among  them  we  discern  the  silver  heads 
Of  venerable  men,  whose  names,  well  known. 
Are  synonj'ms  of  worth,  or  wealth  and  power. 
Among  them  too  are  dames  of  high  degree, 
Young  men  and  maidens  with  their  raven  locks 
And  little  children  innocent  and  fair. 
All  eyes  are  turned  to  Christ  of  Galilee. 
Lo  !  seated  on  a  rock  to  rest  His  limbs, 
Fatigued  with  toils  and  travels.  He  awaits 
The  gathering  round  Him  of  His  chosen  twelve. 

List!    He  begins !    Let  every  sound  be  still ! 
How  sweet !     Yet  how  majestic  is  His  voice  ! 
Borne  on  the  quiet  air  from  this  pure  height. 
Like  gentle  dew  on  thirsty  soil  it  falls 
(Or  rain  upon  the  grass,  long  mown  and  dry), 
With  heaven's  own  benedictions  on  our  hearts. 

But  oh,  how  strange  His  words  !    How  different  far 

From  common  talk  of  scribes  and  Pharisees ! 

How  far  above  the  maxims  of  the  world  ! 

Yea,  "  as  the  heaven  is  high  above  the  earth, 

So  high  are  His  pure  thoughts  above  our  thoughts!" 

They  thrill  us  with  a  strange  unwonted  sense 


272  Bkmopsis. 

Of  guilt,  and  privilege.     "We  see  how  low 
Our  souls  have  fallen  from  the  will  of  God  ! 
How  low  our  views  of  His  commandment  given 
To  lift  our  hearts  from  selfishness  and  sin. 
He  asks  the  living  fruit  of  loving  hearts. 
We  offer  Him  the  husks  of  outward  forms. 
Yet  great  our  privilege  to  hear  His  voice 
Interpreting  in  love  his  blest  commands, 
Pronouncing  blessings  on  the  pure  and  meek 
And  lifting  up  our  hearts  and  hopes  to  heaven. 

From  this  time  forth  the  Lord  pursued  His  work, 
His  great  and  wondrous  work,  to  bless  mankind, 
As  sunlight  pierces  through  the  murky  fogs, 
That  through  the  dismal  night  have  gathered  thick, 
"With  poisonous  exhalations  o'er  the  i">lains, 
Curing  their  pain  and  scattering  all  their  gloom; 
So  Christ  the  "Sun  of  Eighteousness"  arose, 
''With  healing  in  His  wings"  for  sinful  men. 
Day  after  day  He  sought,  with  patient  feet, 
Through  many  a  weary  mile  and  toilsome  day, 
To  do  His  Father's  errands,  and  to  find 
The  homes  of  sorrow,  and  the  haunts  of  sin, 
To  cheer,  to  heal,  to  purify  and  save. 

Did  sage,  philanthropists,  or  hero  e'er 

(Save  His  own  followers)  do  a  work  like  His? 

Or  any  fol'wer  e'er  such  wondrous  work! 

*'The  blind  received  their  sight,  the  lame  did  walk, 

The  dead  were  raised."     Yet,  better  far  than  all, 

"  The  poor  received  the  gospel  freely  j) reached." 


Book  Second — The  Life  Manifested.  273 

Yes,  "better  far  than  all/'  the  tidings  glad 

That  raised  dead  sonls,  condemned  and  lost  in  sin, 

To  God's  own  image  and  immortal  life. 

Kor  this  alone.     He  sympathized  with  all, 
Eejoiciug  e'en  with  those  that  did  rejoice, 
And  weeping  for  the  woes  of  those  that  wept. 
His  presence  crowned  the  happy  festive  scene, 
And  consolation  bronght  to  homes  bereaved. 
He  hungered,  speaking  no  impatient  word 
Himself  to  feed,  yet,  with  a  few  small  loaves, 
He  fully  fed  the  hungry  multitude. 
Tossed  on  the  billows  in  a  little  boat. 
Pillowed  His  weary  head  and  calmly  slept. 
Yet,  when  His  followers  cried,  as  calmly  rose. 
And  bade  the  angry  surges,  ''  Peace  be  still ; " 
Sat  thirsty  at  the  well  and  "asked  for  drink," 
Yet  offered  "  living  waters"  to  bestow, 
That  those  who  drink  should  never  thirst  again. 

Thus  by  His  daily  life  He  plainly  proved 
The  mighty  truth  delivered  by  His  lips, 
The  union  strange  in  Him  of  God  and  man. 

The  gracious  power  aud  presence  of  tlie  Lord 
Abides  in  all  His  servants,  but  in  Him 
"The  fullness  of  the  Godhead  bodily." 

Magnificent  indeed  is  human  power, 
To  think,  to  speak,  to  do ;  and  to  combine 
The  wisdom,  industry,  and  sti-ength  and  skill 
Of  multitudes  of  men ;  yea,  to  employ 


274  Bionopsis. 

The  lore  of  ages  to  accomplish  works, 

That  seem  like  monuments  of  power  divine. 

We  witness  structures  lifting  up  their  spires 

To  heights  sublime,  where,  having  toiled  with  pain, 

Our  trembling  souls  grow  giddy  as  they  gaze. 

Yet  oft  these  airy  piiniacles  of  stone. 

With  charming  grace,  show  adamantine  st  rength. 

Defying  storms  and  mocking  e'en  at  time. 

From  shore  to  shore  men  span  the  dread  abyss 

Where  raging  waters  scorn  their  puny  feet. 

And  underneath  the  waves  they  make  their  way, 

And  drive  their  vehicles  on  light' ning  wheels. 

Great  is  the  subtle  power  of  human  thought, 

A  thing  which  has  no  substance,  sense  or  sound ; 

We  hardly  dare  to  call  it  entity, 

Which,  though  existing,  yet  no  being  claims; 

A  thing  impalpable  to  human  sense, 

Nor  can  we  even  say  'tis  born  of  sense. 

For  souls  with  senses  closed  to  earthly  things 

May  still  have  thoughts,  tho'   meagre,  vague,  and 

dim, 
Like  vaporous  clouds  at  night  quite  unillumed 
Moving  and  circling  round  themselves  alone. 
Life  is  not  born  of  food,  but  Mhen  'tis  born 
Food  must  sustain  it,  or  it  ends  in  death. 

As  sunshine  must  be  rendered  visible 
By  various  forms  and  atoms  Avhere  it  falls. 
And,  when  condensed  by  burning  glass,  will  glow 
In  light  producing  flames,  so  human  thought 


Book  Second — The  Life  Manifested,  275 

Some  subject  of  reflection  first  must  find, 
E'er  it  can  glow  or  kindle  other  thought; 
But  when  condensed  by  some  great  mental  lens, 
With  fitting  fuel  fed,  with  flames  well  fanned, 
The  subtle  spark  may  conflagration  start. 

Oh,  wonderful  the  mighty  power  of  thought ! 
And  most  mysterious  too  the  hidden  link 
That  so  connects  it  with  a  form  of  flesh  ! 

O  man !     In  God's  own  wondrous  image  formed. 
O'er  matter's  mighty  forces  ruler  made. 
By  mightier  force  of  well  directed  thought. 
How  shouldst  thou  prize  true  wisdom,  all  divine 
This  may  enthrone  thee,  e'en  in  worlds  unseen, 
And  make  thee  heir  of  everlasting  life 
Learn  too  a  lesson  of  humility ; 
For  what  hast  thou,  not  first  received  from  God  ? 
And  what  is  e'en  thy  power,  save  as  it  acts 
Through  power  of  others  equal  to  thyself? 

But  Christ  by  His  own  lordship  rules  o'er  all. 
The  water  heard  His  voice  and  turned  to  wine ; 
The  boisterous  billows  bowed  beneath  His  feet; 
The  yielding  depths  grew  strong  to  bear  His  tread  ; 

The  furious  winds  were  hushed  at  His  rebuke ; 
The  fruitless  fig-tree  withered  at  His  word  ; 
Diseases  dire,  that  held  their  loathsome  sway 
O'er  breaking  hearts,  gave  way  to  health  and  joy ; 
And  e'en  in  distant  realms  sweet  hope  revived. 
Where  gathering  gloom  foreboded  coming  death ; 


2/6  Bionopsis. 

Yea,  death  itself  (oh,  joy  to  dying  man !) 
Dismissing  frowns,  grew  pale  at  His  command,- 
Eelentless  death  relaxed  his  rigid  grasp, 
And  owned  His  dreadful  empire  overthrown. 
Bereavement  welcomed  back  its  lost  with  smiles. 
And  mourning  changed  its  wails  of  woe  to  songs. 

But;  not  o'er  death  alone  He  showed  His  power, 
But  "over  him  who  had  the  power  of  death," 
"  Delivering  them  who  through  the  fear  of  death, 
Were  held  in  painful  bondage  all  their  lives." 

Nor  power  alone,  but  wisdom,  truth  and  love. 

Shone  radiant  through  each  fibre  of  His  life. 

No  thread  of  folly,  selfishness,  deceit, 

Nor  aught  of  weakness,  worldliness,  or  pride 

Appeared  to  mar  the  lustre  of  the  whole. 

Nor  was  there  break,  repentance  needs  must  join — 

His  web  of  life,  a  perfect  cloth  of  gold. 

Was  ''woven"  like  His  garment  "  without  seam." 

A  little  folly,  like  a  little  fly 

Embalmed  in  amber,  mars  a  j^erfect  whole, 

Yet  who  from  folly  e'er  was  wholly  free. 

Save  Him  who  "  Holy,  harmless,  uudefiled," 

Was  truly  "separate  "  from  sinful  men ! 

In  Sim,  was  life :  John  i.  4.    In  Him  we  live,  and 
move^  and  have  our  being,    Acts  xvii.  28. 


Cuc.t(i,  A.  is   ///£  fcr 
Ac   ske.eh>  .doh-Xi.X.ll 


PROEM. 

Now  we  approach,  with  deep  humility, 
A  theme  so  grand,  momentous,  and  sublime, 
That  unassisted  human  thought  is  whelmed 
Before  its  mysteries.    Kiud  Heaven  alone 
Can  give  us  light.     Yet  most  important  too, 
Of  deepest  interest,  most  supreme  concern, 
Its  truths  to  men,  to  guide  ns  in  this  life. 
Or  save  us  for  eternity. 

'Tis  this,— 
The  reconciliation  of  our  race 

(Now  LOST  IN  sin)  to  OUR  OFFENDED  GOD  ! 

How  may  we,  wanderers,  now  so  far  removed. 
Be  once  again,  in  peace,  brought  nigh  to  God? 
How  may  our  souls  be  freed  from  sin  and  death, 
From  vileness  and  corruption  fully  cleansed, 
And  thus  made  "  meet  to  dwell  with  saints  in  light  ? " 

Where  God  doth  reign  sin  cannot  also  reign. 

(Alas!     It  reigns  supreme  in  human  hearts!) 

Nay,  more, — one  sin  debars  the  soul  from  Heaven  ! 

Naught  that  defileth  e'er  can  enter  in 

The  holy  realms  by  God's  own  throne  illumed. 

Night  cannot  dwell  with  day,  nor  sin  with  God. 

Sin  e'er  defiles  and  taints  the  soul  with  death. 

And  in  the  Holy  Oracles  of  God 

279 


28o  Bionopsis. 

'Tis  writ, 

"  The  soul  that  sinneth  it  shall  die !  " 
How,  then,  remove  the  curse  from  sinful  souls'? 
How  break  sin's  dreadful  yoke'?    How  purify 
The  heart  corrupted  by  its  loathsomeness! 
How  wash  away  to  snowy  white  again 
The  soul's  indelible  and  scarlet  dyes  % 
How  breathe  new  life  %    How  once  again  restore 
God's  image  fair,  effaced  from  human  souls  % 

It  were  an  easier  task  to  breathe  new  life 

In  old  decaying  coflQns,  and  to  bid 

The  bloom  of  youth  and  beauty  spring  from  dust. 

Yet  this  the  problem  Jesus  came  to  solve  I — 

The  mighty  task  he  ventured  to  perform ! 

Let  Hercules  the  Augean  stables  cleanse, 
Or  Atlas  on  his  shoulders  bear  the  world, 
'Twere  childish  sport,  beside  the  work  of  Christ! 
And  childish  fables,  too,  these  tales  of  men. 
More  wonderful  is  God's  eternal  truth. 


BOOK  THIRD. 

Christ  Jesus  came  from  Heaven  to  save  the  lost! 

Choose  ye  to  doubt  ? — Not  willing  to  obey 
The  holy  will  of  Christ,  nor  yield  your  souls 
For  which  he  came  to  die,  prefer  ye  now 
Some  other  teacher'?  other  advocate 
Before  the  throne  of  God?  some  other  friend 
In  passing  through  death's  deeps? 

Where  will  ye  find 
One  so  replete  with  power  and  grace  divine? 
So  competent  to  satisfy  the  soul? 
What  priest,  philosopher,  or  king,  e'er  dared, 
Or  ever  dreamed  of  work  like  that  of  Christ  ? 

Doubt  ye,  who  choose !    Alas  !  how  can  ye  doubt  ? 
Yet  still  the  wretched  liberty  remains 
(Awhile  remains)  for  those  who  doubt  prefer. 
'Tis  yours,  awhile,  to  disobey  God's  laws. 
To  contradict  his  word,  revile  his  Church, 
To  scorn  his  love,  blaspheme  his  holy  name, 
Yea,  even,  for  a  while,  defy  his  wrath ! 

Awhile  'tis  yours  God's  witness  to  refuse 
E'en  though  he  asks  an  act  of  faith  so  small, 
That  reason  asks,  "When  will  ye  fools  be  wise?" 

The  time  soon  comes  when  faith  is  asked  no  more, 
The  time  when  faith  no  longer  may  avail ; — 

Xo  longer  it  remains  to  disbelieve. 

281 


282  Bionopsis. 

Ye  who  "believe,  and  tremble,"  now,  in  Hell, 
Well  know  the  woe  of  hating  truth  divine. 

God  grant  us  all  the  wisdom  to  decide. 
With  David, 

"  I  do  choose  the  way  of  truth.' 
And  may  the  blessed  privilege  be  ours, 
Bestowed  on  all  receiving  Christ  as  Lord, 
"The  power  to  be  the  very  sons  of  God." 

"  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God! " 

(Oh,  ponder  well 
The  words  of  Christ's  own  Herald, — unrel)uked) 

"  Taking  away  the  sins  of  all  the  world !  " 

"  The  Lamb  of  God ! " 

Provided  by  the  Lord, 
As  once  declared  unconscious  Abraham, 
"My  son,  God  will  j)rovide  himself  a  lamb." 

Oh,  faith  sublime!    Yet  knowing  not  the  depths 
Of  hidden  meaning  in  these  simple  words ! 
For  in  the  place  of  that  beloved  Son 
God  did  a  lamb  provide,  the  type  of  Him 
The  very  Lamb  of  God,  and  very  Son  of  God, 
In  place  of  our  own  sons, — in  our  own  place. 

Behold  how  wonderful  the  love*of  God  ! 
The  heathen,  when  they  sinned  against  their  gods. 
Brought  offerings  to  appease  their  furious  wrath. 
They  hoped  to  purchase  favor,  and  to  lay 
Tlieir  sins  upon  the  heads  of  bulls  and  goats. 


Book   Third-  'The  Ransom  from  Death.  283 

Ah,  vain  the  slaughter  !     Poor  the  substitute 
They  offered  in  the  place  of  their  own  souls. 
Diviner  "wisdom  cleailj'  shows  that  blood 
"  Of  bulls  and  goats  can  never  cleanse  from  sin!" 

But  God  himself  provides  a  sacrifice, 
Not  to  appease  a  weak  and  jealous  wrath, 
But  satisfy  eternal  righteousness. 

But  dost  thou  ask  "  What  need  of  sacrifice?" 

Woiddst  thou  Impugn  the  goodness  of  the  Lord, 

And  dare  to  charge  with  useless  cruelty  ? 

Hear  thou  God's  answer,  through  his  servant  Paul. 

"  If  by  the  law,  there  come  true  righteousness. 
Then  Christ  is  dead  in  vain." 

But  think' st  thou,  still, 
'*  Jehovah  must  accept  the  penitent. 
Cancel  his  sin,  and,  when  he  lives  aright, 
Eeceive  and  bless  him  for  his  righteousness?  " 

Can  penitence  alone  atonement  make, 

That  which  is  done  undo,  make  right  the  wrong, 

And  glorify  God's  violat3d  law "? 

Then  sin  and  penitence  keep  equal  steps, 

And  crime  receives  no  certain  penalty, — 

The  cunning  sinner,  then,  outwits  his  God. 

He  breaks  God's  law,  but  parries  punishment. 

Eepenting  late,  when  he  can  sin  no  more. 

He  finds  his  life  of  sin,  though  uuatoned, 

Rewarded  like  a  life  of  godliness. 

Oh,  fatal  folly  !  fancy  most  absurd  ! 


284  Bionopsis. 

The  Devil's  doctriue  to  delude  the  lost ! 
The  soul  that  hopes  to  cheat  th'  Omniscient  One 
Itself  is  cheated !    Satan's  certain  prey  ! 
Without  atonement  penitence  is  vain  ! 
Nay,  true  repentance  is  imx)ossible 
(By  which  the  soul  is  fully  reconciled) 
Unless  by  God  inspired.     And  first,  the  way 
Must  be  prepared  by  him. 

But  list  God's  word, 
"  There  can  be  no  remission  for  our  sins 
Without  the  flow  of  blood." 

'Tis  in  this  lies 
The  life  of  man.    And  life  is  forfeited 
By  sin.     Sin  is  itself  the  seed  of  death, 
Whence  d^eafh  must  ever  spring.    Can  Ufe  f 

No  moie 
Than  figs  from  thorns!  or  grapes  from  thistles  grow  ? 

Nor  dies  alone  the  body.    E'en  the  soul. 
Which  sin  contaminates,  forever  dies. 
With  no  redemptive  power  within  itself: — 
Forever  dies,  and  yet  forever  lives. 
With  no  true  life  of  God,  but  still  exists, 
A  sad  intelligence,  forever  doomed,  . 
By  free  choice  of  its  own,  to  dwell  apart 
From  all  the  throbbing,  loving  life  of  God. 

Behold  the  wretched  state  of  one  whose  vice 
Has  early  wrecked  his  life.     The  prisoner, 
Self  doomed,  from  solitai-y  chamber  views, 
With  bitterness,  tlie  life  lie  shares  no  more. 


Bool;   TJiird — The  Kinisojn  front  Death.  285 

How  bright  and  beautiful  it  seems  to  those 

Wlio  feel  its  pulses,  joying  in  its  joy. 

The  birds  that  warble  forth  their  Maker's  praise, 

Or  hail  their  mates,  or  tell,  with  cooings  soft, 

Their  mutual  loves,  leaping  from  bough  to  bough, 

Or  darting  swift  (like  arrow  to  its  mark) 

On  errands  of  their  own,  these,  in  their  place, 

Fulfill  their  ends,  brimful  of  happy  life. 

And  merry  children,  flushed  with  sport  and  glee 

With  shouts  and  ringing  laughter  fill  tlie  air, 

And  busy  men,  alive  with  eager  hope. 

Pursue,  each  one,  some  weighty  enterprise. 

Lo  !  what  a  surging,  overflowing  tide 

Of  bright,  exultant,  joyous,  hopeful  life 

But  you  poor  wretch  has  only  learned  to  hate 

The  life  he  shares  not : — yet  he  dare  not  die ! 

l^ay !    It  is  not  his  to  find  repose  in  death. 

Though  he  would  ' '  dig  for  death  as  treasure  hid. 

Rejoicing,  with  exceeding  joy,  to  find 

The  grave,"  that  might  forever  hide  his  woes. 

A  dreadful  weight  lies  heavy  on  his  heart. 

And  dark  despair  beclouds  his  wretched  soul. 

He  loathes  himself!    He  loathes  the  vicious  joys 

That  so  deceived  his  heart  and  wrecked  his  soul. 

Yet  has  he  now  no  power,  no  wish  to  rise 

To  purer  pleasures,  nobler,  holier  aims. 

Sweet  hope  is  his  no  more,  and  love  is  dead. 

(Scarce  has  it  lived,  where  self  has  reigned  supreme.) 

Not  even  mem'ry  yields  the  least  relief. 

His  vile  delights  he  now  would  fain  forget. 


286  Bionopsis. 

Eemorse,  and  shame,  aud  hopeless  grief  corrode 
His  miserable  heart,  and  hatred  fierce, 
To  all  that's  good,  embitters  all  his  soul, 
A  living  death  is  his,  more  dreadful,  far, 
Than  dissolution's  transitory  pains ! 
Welcome  the  throes  of  mortal  agony 
Could  they  forever  end  more  dreadful  life ! 
Oh,  weary,  weary  life !     Oh,  wretched  soul ! 
Where  shall  it  look  for  mercy  %    Where  for  love  % 
What  consolation  yet  remains,  in  life  or  death  % 
Alas,  kind  pity,  art  thou  also  dead? 

Behold  the  dreadful  ripened  fruit  of  vice  : 
Speedier,  but  not  more  sure  of  woe,  than  sin. 

'Twas  from  such  death  the  Saviour  came  to  save. 

And  to  redeem  our  souls  he  offered  up, 

Not  blood  alone  but  also  his  own  soul. 

In  Isaiah's  glowing  page  we  read  that  God 

Would  "  make  his  soul  an  offering  for  sin." 

Blood  is  the  type  of  this  amazing  grace  ! 

The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ!    It  ''speaketh  better 

things 
Than  blood  of  Abel.' '     This  but  tells  of  death. 
The  first  fulfilment  of  the  threatened  doom. 
The  type  and  prophecy  of  human  death. 
But  oh,  what  Gospel  in  the  blood  of  Christ ! 
A  wondrous  tale  of  mingled  joy  and  grief ! 
"Glad  tidings"  for  the  lost,  of  sin  atoned. 
Of  full  forgiveness  thus  made  possible, 
"  Propitiation"  made  for  human  guilt, 


Book   Third— T/tc  Ransom  from  Death.  287 

"Eemissiou"  given,  for  ''sins  already  past," 
That  "God  may  now  be  just,  and  justify 
Him  who  believes  in  Christ ! 

And  sorroAV  too, 
That  God's  Beloved  Son,  our  gracious  Lord, 
Our  dear  and  loving  Friend,  whose  tender  heart 
Yearned  over  wretched  souls  of  sinful  men. 
The  "holy,  harmless,  undefiled, "  and  good, 
Shoi.xd  suffer  dreadful  death,  by  cruel  hands 
Of  those  he  came  to  save,  and  that  our  sins 
Should  add  the  poison  to  his  bitter  cup. 
Should  "crucify  our  patient  Lord  afresh,'' 
And,  once  more,  put  him  to  an  open  shame. 

Xot  with  corruptible  or  common  things 
Were  we  redeemed,  ' '  but  with  the  precious  blood 
Of  Jesus  Christ,"  our  Lord,  "as  of  a  lamb 
Without  a  blemish,  and  without  a  spot." 

Yet  true  redemption  or  atonement,  still 

Some,  disbelieving,  would  explain  away 

With  subtle  speculations  of  their  own. 

Subtle  and  learned,  they  curiously  evade 

The  obvious  meaning  of  the  Word  of  God, 

The  common  ancient  faith  of  God's  redeemed 

(But  God's  true  Church  still  deems  his  Word  more 

wise,) 
Not  humbly  heeding  ancient  symbols  given, 
Or  plainest  statements  of  the  later  Word, 
They  scorn  the  blood,  and  boldly  thooi-ize 
From/««e/es,  and  i'lom  feelings,  of  their  oion! 


288  Bionopsis. 

"Not  yet  has  ceased  the  offence  of  Jesus'  Cross." 
They  say 

"  God  simply  shows  his  hate  of  sin, 
His  love  of  righteousness,  and  pardoning  grace, 
By  making  Christ  a  spectacle  to  men.' ' 

Does  God  then  dramatize,  like  cunning  men, 
Who  live  for  show,  more  than  for  righteousness? 
Was  Christ's  great  sacrifice  a  needless  crime, 
Like  that  of  Arria  for  her  coward  spouse? 
She  saved  no  life,  but  showed  a  ivondruvs  love. 
Thrusting  her  dagger  to  her  heart  she  cried 
"  It  gives  no  pain,  my  Petus ! " 

Is  this  all 
Our  Saviour  does  for  us? — teach  us  to  die? 

God's  Word  declares 

"The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ 
Doth  cleanse  from  all  our  sins." 

Wonldst  thou  amend, 
And  say  "  It  teaches  us  to  cleanse  ourselves? 
'Twas  but  a  striking  object  lesson  given 
To  plainly  show  the  world  important  truth. 
The  beauty  of  self-sacrificing  love?" 

Alas!   A  most  misleading  lesson  then. 

Deceiving  God's  own  church  in  every  age. 

And  kindling  empty  hopes  of  cancelled  sin, 

And  full  salvation  freely  given  to  all 

Who  fully  trust  in  Christ's  atoning  work! 

In  vain  !     A  mere  display,  obscurely  given. 

To  warn  our  trembling  souls  to  save  themselves!- 


Book   Third —  The  Ransom  from  Death.  289 

Or — sacrifice  themselves  for  other's  good! 
Did  Arria  alone  the  lesson  learn  ? 

But  some  still  ask 

"How  can  one  suflf'rer's  blood 
Atone  for  others'  sins  % ' ' 

We  may  not  tell 
The  full  extent  of  God's  eternal  law. 
It  is  "exceeding  broad!  "     "Unsearchable 
His  judgments,  and  his  ways  past  finding  out." 
But  glimmerings  of  the  truth  e'en  now  are  seen, 
From  facts  familiar  in  this  mortal  state. 

The  sovereign  of  a  realm  whose  laws  change  not 

(Like  those  of  Medes  and  Persians)  makes  decree 

Concerning  acts  forbidden  or  enjoined. 

One  x)rovince  disregards  and  breaks  these  laws. 

'Twere  easy  to  o'erwhelm  the  rebel  state, 

Or  cut  it  wholly  off,  and  e'er  debar 

Its  citizens  from  every  privilege, 

Or  further  favor  floMing  from  the  throne. 

The  king  is  merciful,  as  well  as  just. 

How  shall  he  then  exact  the  penalty, 

Eepentance  win,  and  save  the  penitents  ? 

Eepentance  only,  e'en  if  fully  won, 

Leaves  debt  unpaid,  and  duty  unfulfilled, — 

Nay,  more,  the  broken  law  dishonored  still. 

But  one  appears  able  to  pay  the  debt, 

Fulfill  the  duty, — even  willing  too 

To  bear  the  dreadful  penalty  himself. 


290  Biono/)sis. 

He  offers  thus  to  cov'nant  with  the  king. 
Shall  aught  proscribe  the  sacred  covenant? 
Doth  mercy,  justice,  equity  forbid  ? 
The  law  is  not  evaded,  but  fulfilled, 
Justice  exacts  its  rightful  penalty. 
And  mercy,  too,  rejoices  in  the  deed, — 
Not  that  the  innocent  must  agonize, 
But  that  the  guilty  now  are  purged  from  guilt, 
And  help  is  laid  upon  a  Mighty  One, 
Able  to  bear,  and  save." 

"  The  problem  great 
"Were  but  a  simple  one,  were  debt,  not  guilt, 
Thus  to  be  satisfied  ;  but  why  transfer 
From  guilt  to  innocence  a  load  of  woe  ? " 

We  answer  thus, 

Guilt  is  to  be  condemned, 
And  of  its  condemnation  this  is  part, 
The  woe  it  brings  upon  the  innocent. 
The  earth  doth  share  the  curse  of  human  guilt. 
"  The  creature,  subject  unto  vanity, 
Groaneth  and  travaileth  in  pain  till  now." 

Behold  yon  prison !    In  its  dreary  cells. 
Behind  its  iron  bars,  like  caged  beasts, 
Are  men  arraigned,  for  crime.    Det'i)  is  their  woe 
While  self  respect  and  honor  still  are  theirs. 
While  truth  and  reputation  still  are  dear. 
How  sweet  seems  liberty,  now  lost !  how  hard 
The  prison  discipline,  the  fare,  the  couch. 
And  all  the  stern  and  cheerless  daily  round. 


Book   Third — The  Ransom  from  Death.  291 

But  infinitely  worse  the  shame,  and  pain, 

The  degradation,  and  the  deep  disgrace, 

"Which  spirits  proud  and  sensitive  must  feel, 

To  be  thus  branded,  by  their  fellow  men, 

As  felons,  more  to  be  despised  than  beasts. 

But  oft  the  innocent  must  suffer  most, 

Made  scapegoats,  cruelly,  bj^  heartless  knaves, 

"Who,  old  in  sin,  most  cunningly  escape. 

And  men  made  hard  by  crime,  and  penalty. 

Oft  lose  their  sense  of  shame  and  punishment. 

Their  mourning  wives  and  little  ones,  at  home, 

With  hearts  made  raw,  must  face  a  scornful  world, 

And  bear  the  pangs  of  want,  and  care,  and  shame. 

The  innocent  must  ever  suffer  thus, — 

Both  with  and  for  the  guilty,  live  and  die. 

Yet  none  are  wholly  innocent, — "not  one," — 
And  all  must  share  some  suff'ring  for  their  sins 
(Paternal  chastisement  is  for  our  good,) 
But  final  condemnation  Christ  averts 
From  those  who  trust  him,  bearing  all  their  sins. 

He  came,  not  to  condemn  the  world,  but  save. 
Condemning  not  the  sinner,  but  the  sin. 

"For  what  the  law  could  not,  in  that  'twas  weak. 
Through  sinful  flesh,  God,  sending  his  own  Son, 
In  form  and  likeness  of  our  sinful  flesh. 
And  for  our  sins,  condemned  sin  in  the  flesh." 

Was  then  this  condemnation,  after  all. 

Merely  a  moral  lesson  for  the  world  ? 

Nay !    Sin  must  e'er  receive  its  just  deserts, 


292  Bionopsis. 

Aud  had  there  been  no  worlds  to  witness  it, 
The  punishment  had  still  been  duly  laid. 
But  Christ,  a  voluntary  victim,  ''bore 
Our  sins,  in  his  own  body,  on  the  tree." 

If  sin  be  thus  both  punished,  and  condemned, 
The  sinner  justified,  and  freed  from  guilt. 
And  purified  from  sin,  through  faith  in  Christ, 
Justice  is  satisfied, — God  glorifi,ed. 

But  still  some  curious  questioner  may  ask, 

''  How  can  the  blood  of  one  atone  for  all? 
And  how  brief  woe  save  everlasting  doom  ?  " 

Forgetest  thou  the  dignity  of  him 
Who  makes  the  sacrifice  ?    Dost  thou  not  deem 
A  moment's  suffering  of  the  Infinite 
Equal  to  everlasting  woe  of  souls 
Infiuitesmal  compared  to  Him? 
Insects  aud  vermin  have  their  little  woes. 
What  were  they  all  compared  to  that  of  Him 
Who  lays  His  royal  honors  down,  and  yields 
His  very  life  to  save  His  subjects'  lives? 
"The  nations  iu  His  sight  are  but  a  drop. 
The  small  dust  of  the  balance,"  and  the  world 
Is  but  a  "  little  thing,"  yet  He  doth  stoop 
By  His  own  suffering  to  redeem  the  world. 

Were  justice  satisfied  with  nothing  less 
Than  that  the  Saviour  must  forever  die, 
Justice  were  then  but  cruelty  indeed, 
Behold  the  Hebrew  in  the  lion's  den. 


Book    Third —  The  Ransom  from  Death.  293 

In  vain  liis  loving  king  bad  sought  to  save 
His  rigliteons  subject  from  the  stern  decree ! 
That  could  not  change :  but  God  could  interpose 
To  keep  his  servant  from  the  lions'  mouths. 
Must  then  the  king  himself  the  victim  slay"? 
No !    His  the  joy  that  (all  the  law  fulfilled) 
He  now  might  welcome  back  his  friend  alive ! 
So  God,  His  darling  from  the  lion  saved. 
And  now  "God  can  be  just  and  justify 
Him  who  believes  in  Christ,"  and  thus  receives 
The  full  atonement  made  for  human  guilt. 

Why,  then,  should  men  both  subtle,  learned  and 

good 
Still  cavil  at  a  scheme  so  good  and  grand, 
That  so  exalts  God's  just  and  holy  law, 
That  so  displays  God's  glory,  love  and  grace, 
And  makes  so  plain  the  way  of  life  for  man! 
Why  still  decry  the  value  of  that  death 
Whereon  our  souls  still  rest  their  dearest  hopes  ? 
Or  why  obscure,  with  glosses  of  their  own, 
The  x)lain,  unvarnished  teachings  of  the  law  % 

Ah  !    Here  behold  Satanic  subtlety ! 

The  craft  of  him  who  meets  God's  truth  with  lies. 

Defeated  oft,  he  still  would  nullify. 

In  manj^  hearts,  the  virtue  of  Christ's  blood. 

Persuading  once  the  princes  of  the  world 

To  hate,  reject  and  crucify  their  Lord, 

His  triumph  seemed  complete.    Yet  e'en  by  death 

The  Saviour  conquered  still.     And  now  the  foe 


294  Bionopsis. 

Would  uudeimine  the  temple  of  that  faith, 

"Whose  corner-stone  was  laid  in  Christ's  own  biood. 

Ah,  might  he  substitute,  for  that  true  rock, 

Some  crumbling  stone  prepared  by  his  own  hand. 

He  hopes  at  last  the  temple  too  will  fall. 

Well  knows  the  Tempter  how  to  use  the  powers 

Of  subtle  men  (more  subtle  far  himself) 

By  puffing  them  with  pride  and  vain  conceit 

Of  their  own  subtlety,  superior  power, 

And  wisdom  to  discern  "  the  things  that  are." 

But  wouldst  thou  know  the  truth  %    Learn  then  that 

God 
"  Eesisteth  all  the  proud,  but  giveth  grace 
Unto  the  humble,"  glad  to  learn  of  Him. 

'Twas  with  a  knowledge  sure,  and  foresight  clear 
That  Christ  anticipates  the  dreadful  hour 
For  which  He  came  into  this  world  of  sin. 

Witness  that  evening  interview  with  him, 

Who,  early  in  the  Saviour's  brief  career. 

His  counsel  seeks  concerning  things  of  God. 

The  venerable  man,  a  ruler  proud, 

Now  humbly  waits  upon  the  peasant  youth. 

Convinced,  indeed,  his  teachings  come  from  God, 

Yet  half  ashamed  lest  men  should  scorn  his  act. 

Oh,  memorable  meeting!    Man,  with  God, 
In  human  form,  holds  wonderful  discourse, 
Of  things  essential  to  our  peace  with  God. 
Proud  Pharisee,  convinced  of  thine  own  need, 


Book   Third — The  Ransom  from  Death.  295 

If  humble  now,  how  would  thy  trembling  soul 

Lie  whelmed  and  prostrate,  didst  thou  know  thy 

Lord! 
How  art  thou  startled  at  his  opening  word, 
Oh,  hear  him, 

"  Verily  I  say  to  thee, 
Except  a  man  be  boen  again," 

Strange  words! 
"  He  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  the  lord  ! " 

Not  e'en  the  Pharisee,  whose  chief  concern 
Is  for  the  law  and  service  of  our  God, 
Shall  see  the  Lord  he  does  not  truly  love. 
The  service  springing  not  from  faith  and  love 
(Which  only  new-boru  souls  can  ever  feel) 
Is  not  the  service  of  the  sons  of  God. 
'Tis  but  the  toil  of  slaves,  the  grudging  tasks 
Of  cringing  and  reluctant  enemies. 
All,  all  is  dead.     Loaded  with  God's  own  gifts, 
Yet  thoughtless,  thankless,  unbelieving  still. 
Unwilling  to  obey  God's  just  commands 
The  human  soul  must  needs  be  born  again. 

But  how  can  man  be  born  again,  when  old? 

Without  a  choice,  we  helpless  entered  life : 

Now  have  we  power  to  new-create  ourselves? 

Can  we  impart  new  vigor  to  our  blood. 

And  thus  renew  our  youth  %    Or  can  we  change 

Our  natures,  dispositions,  habits,  tastes, 

And  thus  commend  oui-selves  to  God's  fi^ee  grace! 


296  Bionopsis. 

"  Nay,"  says  our  Lord,  "  that  which  is  boru  of  flesh 
Is  flesh,  and  spirit,  that  of  spirit  born." 

' '  Then  what  responsibility  hath  man  % 
What  can  he  do  to  work  the  works  of  God? 
What  power  or  choice  to  free  himself  from  death  % 
What  faculty  to  exercise  toward  life?" 

'Tis  faith  alone !    The  faith  that  "works  by  love" 

Must  cleanse  the  eyes  now  thickly  filmed  by  sin, 

And  give  the  power  to  look  on  things  divine. 

'Tis  faith  must  purify  the  worldly  heart. 

And  kindle  sparks  of  holy  love  to  God. 

''By  faith  ye  must  be  saved,  through  grace,  and  that 

Not  of  yourselves  :  it  is  the  gift  of  God." 

"But,  Gracious  Master,  how  can  these  things  be?" 

"  Dost  thou  not  know  these  things  %    A  master  too ! 

We  speak  that  we  do  know,  and  testify 

What  we  have  seen,  but  ye  believe  us  not 

(Mere  theories  of  men  full  credence  gain — 

But  facts,  accredited  by  witness  sure. 

Which  bear  against  your  carnal  lives,  ye  scorn). 

If  when  I  tell  of  earthly  things,  ye  still 

Believe  me  not,  how  can  ye  then  believe 

Of  heavenly  things  % 

(Yet  who  can  better  tell) 
For  no  man  hath  ascended  into  Heaven 
Except  the  Son  of  Man  e'en  now  in  Heaven 
(And  he  alone  can  tell  of  things  divine). 
Hear,  then,  the  mystery  I  now  unfold. 


Book   Third — TJic  Ransom  form  Death.  297 

As  Moses  lifted,  iu  the  wilderness, 

The  serpent  for  a  sign,  that  dying  men 

Might  give  the  look  of  faith  and  live  again, 

So  mnst  the  Son  of  Man  be  lifted  np. 

That  whosoever  will  believe  in  Him, 

May  perish  not,  but  have  eternal  life ; 

For  God  so  loved  the  world  as  e'eij  to  give 

His  well  beloved,  sole  begotten  Son, 

That  whosoever  will  in  Him  believe, 

May,  saved  from  death,  have  everlasting  life." 

Thus  Christ  made  known  his  sacrificial  work, 
As  John  had  first  proclaimed  him  "Lamb  of  God." 
And,  with  this  sacred  knowledge  in  his  breast, 
He  lived  and  labored  day  by  day  with  men. 
And  night  by  night  he  sought  the  God  he  loved. 

O  meek  and  lowly  One,  serene  and  blest, 
Above  the  proud  and  anxious  sons  of  men, 
Thou  hast  the  secret  of  the  truest  life  ! 

It  is  to  live  "  by  every  Word  of  God," 
To  learn  God's  will,  and  truly  to  desire 
And  daily  pray  that  all  may  be  fulfilled. 
Thus  Christ  says  to  His  Father, 

"Lo !  I  come," 
In  Thy  blest  volume  it  is  writ  of  me, 
"To  do  thy  will,  O  God." 

And  thus  he  prays, 
"  O  Holy  Father,  glorify  thyself, 
And  not  my  will,  but  thine  be  done,  O  God." 


298  Bionopsis. 

Why  then  need  anxious  cares  disturb  thy  breast  ? 
Thy  great  ambition  shall  be  all  fulfilled ! 
And,  though  it  costs  thee  temporary  pain, 
Thou  soon  shalt  see  the  travail  of  thy  soul. 
And  be  forever,  fully  "  satisfied ! " 

Not  for  himself  Christ  spends  his  busy  years. 
More  calmly  he  Tauticipates  the  hour 
Of  final  sacrifice,  than  worldly  men 
(Counted  earth's  heroes)  hasten  to  the  day 
Which  lifts  them  to  the  pinnacles  of  power. 

Oh,  hear  him,  ye  who  live  for  self  and  sin. 
"The  thief  doth  come  to  kill,  and  to  destroy. 
But  I  am  come  that  ye  might  all  Imve  life,''' 
And  also  have  it  "  more  abundantly." 

Thus  by  example,  and  atoning  blood, 

Christ  brings  dead  souls  to  life  and  light  divine. 

A  life  so  wholly  consecrate  to  God, 

And  to  the  good  of  men,  in  word  and  deed, 

Was  never  witnessed  in  this  world  of  sin. 

Oh,  true  and  high  ambition,  thus  to  be 
Ordained  a  consecrated  "Lamb  of  God," 
Whose  highest  end  is  God  to  glorify, 
And  be  the  source  of  truest  life  to  men  ! 

^^  And  flmt  Tie  died  for  all,  that  they  loJiich  live  should 
not  henceforth  live  unto  themselves,  bnt  nnto  him  ichich 
died  for  them  and  rose  agahU'     2  Cor.  v.  15. 


PROEM. 

Dread  night  is  here ! 
I  waken  from  a  tioubled  sleep, 
But  seem  to  drift  upon  the  deep, — 

A  lonely  sea  of  fear ! 

0  sleep,  I  struggle  to  regain 
Thy  sweet  forgetfulness,  in  vain 

What  illis  near? 

O  dreadful  sea  ! 

1  gaze  upon  thy  waters  wide. 
Whose  awful  depths,  and  surging  tide, 

Are  fiill  of  mystery, 
And  from  thy  dark  and  cold  embrace, 
Emerging,  lo  !  a  pallid  face, 

I,  trembling,  see ! 

A  sleeping  eye. 
In  solemn  visions  of  the  night. 
Arrests  my  sad  reluctant  sight, 

Of  one  about  to  die  ! 
In  vain  I  strive  my  thoughts  to  turn; — 
Its  lessons  now  I  first  must  learn ! 

It  will  not  fly ! 

Darker  the  line. 

The  fringed  edge  that  bars  the  day ' 

It  marks  the  x)rogress  of  decay. 

While  I  in  vain  repine. 

301 


302  Bionopsis. 

The  gathering  wax  death's  victory  shows! 
The  lesson  those  closed  lids  disclose 
Must  now  be  mine  ! 

I  lift  my  heart, 
And  offer  up  a  silent  prayer, 
Tliat  God  my  life,  at  least,  may  spare, 

And  bid  the  dream  depart. 
And  trembling  now  my  spirit  fills, 
And  through  my  frame  run  shuddering  ehills,- 

Cold  sweat  drops  start ! 

But  steadfast  still 
The  vision  seeks  its  dreadful  close. 
The  band  of  death  still  darker  grows. 

Disgust  and  horror  thrill 
]My  trembling  soul.     Lo,  death  still  feeds 
Corruption  in  those  eyelids  breeds  ! 

Death  takes  its  fill ! 

O  Lord,  impart 
The  secret  of  a  sight  so  dread ! 
This  solemn  lesson  from  the  dead ! 

To  my  poor  trembling  heart ! 
At  this  mere  vision  of  the  night 
Why  should  my  soul,  with  shuddering  fright, 

And  horror  start  ? 

Full  well  I  know 
That  loathsomeness  and  foul  decay 
Must  change  my  frame  to  mouldering  clay. 

Is  this  my  greatest  foe  % 


Proem.  303 

Nay  !    Far  more  loathsome  still,  is  sin  ! 
Defiling  all  my  soul  within  ! 
This  is  my  woe  ! 

But  let  me  see 
My  Saviour  wrapped  iu  death's  dread  shade, 
By  God's  own  dreadful  frown  dismayed, 

Iu  sad  Gethsemaue ! 
'Neath  loathsome  sin  and  death's  dread  flood. 
He  agonized  with  drops  of  blood ! 

And  all  for  me  ! 


BOOK  FOURTH. 

Blest  are  the  chosen  ones,  who  daily  drink 
From  Heavenly  streams  of  truest  life  divine, 
Who  constant  converse  and  communion  hold 
With  that  Blest  One  ordained  of  God  to  be 
Our  "  Prophet,  Priest,  and  everlasting  King. 

Deeply  they  venerate,  most  truly  love, 

And  follow,  faithfully,  their  chosen  Lord, 

Chosen  of  Him,  and  honored  in  the  choice. 

Above  all  others  of  their  fellow  men, 

Though  much  despised  by  those  the  world  calls 

great. 
Content  to  be  cast  out  and  scorned  of  men, 
If  cherished  in  their  Heavenly  Father's  heart. 
And  truly  are  they  loved  by  Him,  whose  love 
Is  more  than  all  the  universe  beside. 

We  join  their  group  ;  for  this,  our  privilege. 

And  now  the  hour  di'aws  near  that  we  must  part, — 
Fond  heaits,  alas!  must  surely  part  on  earth, — 
The  sacrificial  hour  is  drawing  near. 
The  central  hour  of  Earth's  sad  history. 

"  Xow  is  my  soul  sore  troubled,''  cries  the  Lord, 
"  What  say  I  ?    Father  save  me  from  this  hour  ? 
But  for  this  hour  I  came  into  the  world. 
O  Holy  Father,  glorify  thyself!" 

305 


3g6  Bionopsis. 

Hark  !    From  the  heavenly  heights  a  voice  sounds 
forth ! 

"  I  have  both  glorified,  and  yet  again 
Will  glorify  myself  in  Thee." 

But  men ! 
Alas !    Poor,  sinful,  weak,  rebellious  men 
Bring  deeper  shame,  and  guilt  more  horrible, 
Upon  themselves  and  their  posterity ! 
Yea,  e'  en  the  chosen  few  who  love  the  Lord 
How  shamefully  they  fail  him  in  his  woe  ! 

''  Yet,  having  loved,  he  loved  them  to  the  end." 
"We  gather  for  the  sacred  farewell  feast 
Of  deepest  meaning,  tenderest  purest  love. 
What  other  feast  can  be  compared  to  this  % 
The  Paschal  meal  itself,  from  which  it  springs, 
Commemorating  God's  delivering  grace 
From  dire  Egyptian  bondage,  and  from  death. 
And  typifying,  by  the  sprinkled  blood, 
The  good  things  yet  concealed  in  mystery. 
Could  never  move  the  hearts  of  men  like  this. 

Most  surely  we  approach  the  verge  of  Heaven ! 
And  Heaven's  own  King  sits  with  us  at  the  board! 
Our  souls,  transported  from  the  things  of  sense 
Lose  sight  of  all  but  Him,  and  his  dear  love  ! 
Oh,  sweet  ecstatic  hour  !     Oh,  sacred  pledge 
Of  love  divine !  of  God's  eternal  truth  ! 
Oh,  blessed  company  of  those  he  loves  ! 
Oh,  sweet  discourse !  like  music  to  our  souls ! 


Book  Fourth — The  Awful  Shado7u  of  Death.       307 

And  yet  what  sorrow  miDgles  with  our  bliss ! 
How  great  the  price  of  this  most  precious  feast 
Proud  Cleopatra's  costly  pearl,  dissolved, 
lu  ostentation,  vain,  of  vast  expense, 
Was  but  a  worthless  stone,  and  added  naught 
Save  folly  more  perverse,  and  wickedness 
To  grace  the  pomj)  of  her  voluptuous  meal. 
But  oh,  behold,  when  Jesus  breaks  the  bread, 
And  pours  the  wine  for  each  beloved  friend ! 
And  list  his  wondrous  words, 

"  Take  ye,  and  eat. 
This  is  my  body  which  is  given  for  you. 
Oft  as  ye  eat  this  bread  remember  me.' ' 

O  gracious  Lord  !  how  can  we  e'er  forget? 

But  lo  !    He  now  extends  the  cup  to  me, 

And  while  I  stretch  my  trembling  hand  to  take, 

''Drink  of  this  cup.     'Tis  the  Xew  Testament 
In  my  own  blood.     '  Tis  freely  shed  for  you. 
Oft  as  ye  drink  this  cup  remember  me." 

O  sacred  memory  !    Forever  dwell. 
Within  the  holiest  temple  of  my  heart. 
This  precious  token  of  a  Saviour's  love ! 
Be  all  things  else  forgot,  before  the  name 
The  precious  name  of  Jesus  spends  its  power ! 
Sweet  are  the  names  of  fond  and  happy  love. 
That  thrill  our  longing  souls  with  pure  delight. 
Of  father,  mother,  brother,  sister,  child, 
And  that  dear  name,  above  all  earthly  names, 


3o8  Bionopsis. 

Of  precious  wife,  our  soul's  chief  counterpart: 
Yet  even  these  must  from  our  mem'ry  fade, 
While  that  sweet  uame  shall  cheer  us  last  on  earth 
That  first  shall  bless  our  raptured  souls  in  Heaven. 

But  lo!    E'en  in  this  sacred,  happy  feast 
Foul  sin  intrudes  !    Oh  !    Height  of  villauy ! 

What  horror  fills  our  hearts !    And  each  one  cries 
'' Lord,  is  it  I r^ 

Oh,  may  tliis  question  thrill 
Through  every  heart  not  fully  sealed  for  Christ, 
Yet  ask  it  right :  for  e'en  the  Traitor  asked, 
"Lord,  is  it  11" 

Oh,  better,  better  far, 
The  wretch  had  never  lived  than  sell  his  Lord ! 
Oh,  dreadful  power  of  Satan  !    Heinous  crime 
Of  loving  filthy  lucre  more  than  God  ! 

But  Judas  soon  withdraws :  and  o'er  our  hearts 
There  falls  the  shadow  of  the  coming  woe. 

Yet,  ere  it  bursts,  our  Lord  sweet  comfort  speaks. 

"Let  not  your  hearts  be  troubled :  ye  believe 
In  God;  believe  ye,  even  so,  in  me." 

He  turns  his  eyes  towards  Heaven,  and  lifts  our 

thoughts 
Above  the  rising  tide  of  grief  and  fear. 
All  earthly  liopes  dissolve  and  joys  decay, 
He  points  us  to  the  endless  joys  of  Heaven. 


Book  Fourth — The  Awful  Shadoiu  of  Death.      309 

All,  great  our  need  of  this  dear  comfort  now. 
A  company  of  strong,  yet  simple  men, 
With  hearts  refined  by  holiest  intercourse 
With  One  too  pure  for  Earth,  our  love  has  gro"n^n, 
Insensibly,  through  every  day  and  hour. 
Forsaking  all  things  else  on  Earth  held  dear, 
We  cling  to  Him  alone,  and  find  in  Him 
All  that  a  loving  soul  can  most  desire. 
Wisdom,  and  righteousness,  and  truth,  and  love. 

And  now,  in  parting,  sorrow  fills  our  hearts. 
How  sweet,  how  tender  is  his  last  discourse ! 
We  drink  in  every  word  with  love  and  hope ! 
Upon  the  holy  Mount  he  first  began 
To  teach  the  principles  to  guide  our  life. 
And  now  he  shows  the  source  of  life  divine, 
Our  promised  Helper,  and  our  Comforter ; 
And  points  us  to  the  bright  and  blessed  end. 

We  look  at  his  fair  forehead  through  our  tears 
(Serene  and  beautiful,  as  that  of  one 
Familiar  with  the  holy  light  of  Heavea), 
And  vainly  try  to  choke  our  rising  grief. 
The  glow  of  j^outhful  manhood  on  his  cheeks 
Declares  him  truly  friend  and  brother  man. 
And  so  our  yearning  hearts  still  fondly  say 
Bone  of  our  bone,  flesh  of  our  flesh  is  he. 
But  in  his  eyes,  so  full  of  tenderness. 
We  see  a  light  that  penetrates  our  souls. 
And  speaks  a  spirit  heavenly, — yea,  divine ! 


3IO  Bionopsis. 

Believe  in  thee !    Lord,  how  could  any  doubt? 
Our  hearts  respond, 

"Yea,  Lord,  we  do  believe." 

0  Jesus,  if  we  may  not  trust  in  Thee, 
Purest  and  best  of  ail  humanity, 

In  whom,  then,  may  we  trust ? 
If  thou  eouldst  falsely  point  the  way  to  Heaven, 
Showing  thyself  the  true  and  living  way. 
Then  must  our  souls  forevermore  despair. 

He  speaks.     Oh,  listen  ! 

"  In  my  Father's  house 
Are  many  mansions  ;  if  it  were  not  so 

1  would  have  told  you,     I  go  to  prepare 
A  place  for  you.     And  surely  as  I  go 

I  come  again,  to  take  you  to  myself, 
That  where  I  am  ye  too  may  also  be. 
Whither  I  go  ye  know.     The  way  ye  know." 

Like  balm  these  words  of  comfort  soothe  our  grief, 
Yet  still,  with  deepest  feelings  all  awake, 
Attention  most  intense,  and  thrilling  hope, 
We  questions  urge  (concerning  Christ  himself, 
And  that  great  life  he  came  to  bring  mankind) 
Which  only  Christ  can  solve. 

Thus  Thomas  says 
"  We  know  not '  whither '  Lord.  How  then  the  way  1 ' 

Then  he 

"I  AM  THE  WAY,  THE  TRUTH,  THE  LIFE, 

None  cometh  to  the  Father  bnt  by  me." 


Book  Fourth — The  Awful  Shadow  of  Death.      311 

Lo !    Ye  who  seek  the  secret  springs  of  life, 

Here  find  your  problem  solved!     Here  ends  our 

quest ! 
The  truest,  highest  life  is  found  iu  Christ ! 

The  light  of  nature  like  a  glow  worm  gleams ; 
But  in  the  Word  of  God  our  souls  find  light, 
A  worldly  life  an  ignis  fatuous  proves. 
Eternal  life  must  come  from  Christ  alone. 
Behold  the  Living  Fount !    What  life  can  spring 
From  nothingness  and  death,  save  at  the  call 
Of  Him  who  caused  the  smitten  rock  to  flow  I 
And  whence  can  true  life  flow  except  from  Him, 
The  Eternal  Fount,  supreme,  of  truth  and  life? 
And  how  can  men  find  life  save  in  the  ways 
Provided  and  appointed  by  the  Lord, 
The  chosen  channels  of  his  grace  divine ! 

List  ye,  who  travel  by  some  other  way. 

And  trust,  with  vainest  confidence,  in  self. 

How  will  ye  come  before  Him  at  the  last  % 

If  Jesus  e'en  were  false,  how  could  ye  stand 

Before  the  Judge  that  searcheth  every  heart 

And,  unbefriended  and  alone,  attempt 

To  plead  your  innocence  of  every  sin 

And  claim  the  right  to  dwell  "  with  saints  in  light?  " 

But  if  ye  own  that  Jesus  Christ  is  true, 

What  answer  can  ye  give  that  ye  have  scorned 

"The  Holy  One  of  God,"  his  "  Only  Son  V 

And  ye  who  long  to  find  the  living  God, 
And  walk  the  only  way  that  leads  to  Heaven  j 


312  Ih'tinopsis. 

Ye  who  would  learn  the  one  essential  truth, 
And  live  the  only  true  and  blessed  life, 
Learn  from  our  Lord's  most  precious  parting  words. 
"  I  leave  you  peace.     My  peace  I  give  to  you." 
All  worldly  joys  are  but  the  bubbles  bright, 
That  sparkle  on  the  surface  of  the  stream. 
And  every  moment  vanish,  one  by  one. 
The  peace  of  Christ  is  like  the  stream  itself 
That  seeks  the  ocean  of  eternal  bliss. 

And  now  behold  the  dreadful  hour  is  come. 
The  power  of  darkness  and  the  wrath  of  God  ! 
The  wrath  of  God,  forever  due  to  sin, 
Is,  in  its  anguish  for  a  moment  laid 
Upon  the  Well  Beloved  Son  of  God  ! 

The  world  is  full  of  sorrow,  pain,  and  death, 
Heart  breaking  grief,  and  desolating  woe. 
The  cherished  idols,  reared  by  worldly  hearts 
In  place  of  God,  can  yield  no  lasting  joy. 
Shattered  at  last,  they  crush  their  worshippers. 
But  e'en  the  death  of  hope  to  broken  hearts 
Brings  no  such  woe  as  that  which  shrouds  the  soul 
That  bears  the  guilt  and  shame  of  human  sin  ! 
The  righteous  man  who  scorns  dishonesty, 
Imprisoned  for  another's  crime,  and  scorned 
By  all  his  fellow  men  (e'en  by  the  base 
Who  glory  o'er  his  shame),  more  keenly  feels 
His  deep  disgrace,  than  wretches  justly  doomed. 
He  loathes  the  things  in  which  their  souls  rejoice. 
And  though  his  soul  may  cry  aloud  to  God, 


luwk  Fourth — TItc  Aivjul  Sliadoiv  of  Dc^tlli.       313 

"  Prove  me,  and  I  shall  still  come  forth  like  gold,'' 
The  very  shadow  of  the  crime  he  hates 
Darkens  his  soul,  and  blights  his  every  joy. 

But  oh,  how  feebly  this  doth  symbolize 

The  anguish  of  the  Saviour's  holy  soul ; 

For  not  the  deep  disgrace,  uor  e'en  the  wrong, 

lieceived  from  those  who  paid  his  love  with  hate, 

Was  heaviest  burden  in  his  load  of  woe. 

'Twas  sin  itself  (the  burden  of  our  sins, 

He  bore  in  his  own  body  on  the  tree) 

Which  in  The  Garden  crushed  his  tender  heart. 

Oh,  dreadful  sin  !  that  desolates  the  world! 

Worse  than  disease,  or  sorrow,  pain  or  death  ! 

These  (if  but  brief  and  wholesome  chastisements 

To  purge  from  sin)  may  work  our  highest  weal. 

But  sin  doth  separate  from  God  himself, 

And  must  forever  bar  the  soul's  return. 

It  kills  each  holy  joy  that  flows  from  God, 

And  steeps  the  soul  at  last  in  endless  night. 

It  is  "the  dreadful  thing  that  God  doth  hate," 

And  holy  beings  hate,  yea,  even  loathe. 

'^  Fools  make  a  mock  at  sin."     Yea,  foulest  sins, — 

E'en  blasphemies  against  the  living  God, 

"They  roll,  as  morsels  sweet,  beneath  their  tongues." 

But  holy  souls,  convinced  of  smallest  sins. 

Are  filled  with  penitence,  and  grief,  and  gloom. 

Nor  for  themselves  alone ;  for  those  they  love 

(Deceived  by  sin)  they  mourn  with  grief  and  feai-. 

And  share  their  burdens  and  their  deep  disgrace. 


3 1'4  Piono/>s!S. 

Conceive  the  sorrow  of  that  parent's  heart 
Whose  every  child  has  turned  aside  to  sin ! 

Yet  every  type  must  fail  to  fully  show 
The  Saviour's  agony  beneath  our  sins. 
What  he  hath  suffered  in  his  holy  soul. 
Dissevered  for  a  moment  from  his  God, 
And  burdened  with  the  sins  of  all  the  world, 
What  tongue  can  tell"?  what  sinful  mind  conceive'? 
We  only  know  how  fully  he  atoned 
For  all  our  guilt,  to  make  salvation  sure. 
And  free,  as  sure,  to  all  w^ho  trust  in  him. 

The  final  hour  of  sweet  comuianion  past. 

With  earthly  friends,  the  Saviour  leads  them  forth 

And  in  the  shades  of  sad  Gethsemane, 

He  bids  them  watch.     Shall  we  not  watch  awhile? 

We  may  not  know"  the  burden  of  his  thoughts. 
Oh,  let  us  mourn  at  least  in  sympathy. 

The  gloomy  prospect  all  before  him  lies 
Of  quickly  coming  woes  he  may  not  shun. 
He  sees  himself  on  trial  for  his  life. 
Surrounded  by  a  rabble  fierce  and  wild, 
Like  hungry  wolves,  loud  howling  for  his  blood. 
The  fickle  multitude  that  lately  joined 
The  loud  hosannas  of  his  loving  friends. 
More  loudly  voice  the  cool  malignant  hate 
Of  frowning  priests,  and  canting  Pharisees, 
Whose  deep  hypocrisy,  at  his  rebuke, 
Stood  out  revealed  in  all  its  heinousness, 


Book  Fourth  ~Tlic  Awful  S/iado7i'  of  Death.       315 

Like  Satan  touclied  by  bright  Itbnriers  spear. 
He  sees  proud  Satan's  hellish  triumph  now, 
Himself  the  victim  to  the  slaughter  led, 
"Despised,  rejected  by  his  fellow  men," 
Forsaken  by  his  dearest  earthly  friends, 
Most  shamefully  denied,  with  perjured  oaths, 
By  him  who  promised  most  of  faithful  love, 
Yea,  e'en  betrayed  with  hellish  wickedness, 
By  one,  his  own  disciple,  honored  high 
With  trusted  office  in  the  chosen  band. 
One  who  had  heard  his  precious  words  of  truth 
From  day  to  day,  and  bowed  with  him  in  prayer, 
And  at  the  festal  board  had  dipped  his  hand 
Into  the  self  same  dish  !    Alas  !    Alas ! 
That  such  a  man  should  vile  and  recreant  prove. 
And  sell  himself  to  Satan  for  a  price ! 
Ah,  can  we  wonder  at  the  Saviour's  grief"? 
But  hark  !    He  speaks  ! 

How  touching  are  his  Mords 
In  which  he  owns  the  travail  of  his  soul ! 

"  Exceeding  sorrmvful !    E'en  unto  death  !  " 

Oh,  let  our  hearts  respond  !    "  He  bears  our  griefs," 
*'He  carries,"  friends,  "our  sorrows,"  in  his  heart! 

"  Exceeding  sorrowful  /" 

What  mean  these  words 
Forced  from  the  lips  of  our  long-suffering  Lord? 
Xo  feeble  tongue  can  tell,  nor  symbols  show 
The  anguisli,  which  excruciating  death 


3l6  Bionopsis. 

Aloue  could  speak,  oi-  (.nd. 

Oh,  is't  for  luc 
Such  dreadful  sorrow  fills  my  Saviour's  soul"? 
Oh,  k^t  me  also  grieve  for  mine  own  sins  ! 
In  my  repenting  spirit  may  he  see 
"The  travail  of  his  soul,"  Avell  "satisfied  !'' 

The  guilt  and  sorrow  of  a  sinful  world, 
With  all  its  gloom  rests  in  his  tender  heart. 
The  "  shadow  of  great  darkness"  wraps  him  in, 
A  sense  of  clinging  guilt,  though  not  his  own, 
With  loathing  horror  fills  his  holy  soul. 

Bat  one  more  bitter  q\\\)  awaits  his  lips. 
Oh,  bitterest  of  all!    But  must  he  drink  ? 
Behold  him  prostrate  in  the  dreadful  gloom 
Of  nature's  darkest  night.     'Tis  not  the  shade 
That  falls  from  friendly  olives,  dense,  and  tleep, 
That  casts  this  dreadful  gloom  along  his  path. 
Behold  his  form,  convulsed  with  agony, 
Stretched  prone  upon  the  ground  in  earnest  prayer  I 
He  sheds  great  drops  of  blood  that  fall  to  eartli ! 
Could  nature's  night  alone  work  woe  like  his  % 
Alas  !    Not  this,  not  this  could  cloud  his  soul. 
To  him  the  night  was  joyous  as  the  day. 
It  brought  him  nearer  to  the  God  he  loved ! 
But  now  he  knows  that  God  must  hide  his  face, 
And  leave  him,  at  the  last,  to  die  alone  ! 
Hark !    Hear  his  prayer  in  anguish  offered  up, 

"O  Holy  Father,  if 'tis  possible 


Imio/c  Fourth — The  Aivfitl  Shadcw  of  Death.      317 

liemove  this  cup.     Bat  if  it  may  not  pass 
Except  I  drink,  thy  "will,  not  mine,  be  done." 

What  cup  more  bitter  could  the  Saviour  drink, 
To  fill  his  heart  aud  soul  with  keenest  woe, 
Thau  this,  to  be  forsaken  of  his  God, 
The  God  he  loves,  aud  in  whose  light  he  lives  ? 
Aud  this,  too,  iu  liis  hour  of  greatest  need! 

Oh,  dreadful  consequence  of  human  guilt ! 
That  God's  own  Son  must  bear  the  Father's  frown, 
And  be,  for  sin,  thus  banished  from  his  sight. 
Yea,  e'en  in  death  I — ^the  dreadful  gloom  of  death! 

Christ  takes  the  sinner's  place,  and  drinks  his  cup, 

His  bitter  cup,  that  cannot  pass  away. 

A  holy  God  can  never  smile  on  sin. 

E'en  when  'tis  borne  by  his  beloved  Son. 

Sin  must  forever  separate  from  God. 

Death  cannot  dwell  with  life,  nor  night  with  day. 

These  woes  lie  open  to  the  Saviour's  view, 
But  ye  who  see  the  glorious  victory 
May  wonder  at  his  agony,  and  ask, 

"What  of  the  glory,  and  the  bliss  beyond? 
Are  they  invisible,  or  all  unknown  ?  " 

We  own  the  mystery  :  but  this  we  know, 
Our  condescending  Lord  has  fully  shared 
Our  human  weakness,  e'en  from  infancy. 
Taking  our  place,  "thus  it  behooved"'  the  Lord 
To  suffer  as  a  trulv  human  soul. 


3i8  BionopsiB. 

'Tis  easy  for  the  Father  to  conceal. 

A  little  while,  the  glory  yet  to  come, 

And  put  his  chosen  to  the  utmost  test. 

So  deals  he  still  with  ,us,  and  sometimes  liides 

His  loving  count'nance  that  our  souls  may  feel 

The  wretchedness  and  woe  of  life  unlit 

By  his  blest  presence  and  heart  cheering  smiles. 

(Far  better  sunless  day,  or  starless  night!) 

"What  then  of  those  who,  now  forsaking  God, 

Must  find  themselves  forsaken  at  the  last. 

And  all  his  favor  lost  forevermore  ? 

Forgotten  by  the  world,  and  eartlily  friends, 

They  wake  at  last  to  find,  too  late,  that  God 

Was  more  than  all  they  ever  sought  on  earth. 

Slow  wears  away  this  dreadful  night  of  gloom 
And  dimmest  dawn  first  faintly  tints  the  sky. 
To  usher  in  the  still  more  dreadful  day, 
"When,  lo!    approaching  lights  shine  through  the 

gloom ! 
Lanterns  and  smoking  torches,  borne  aloft. 
Show  gleaming  weajDons !    List !    A  burst  of  noise 
Dispels  the  sacred  stillness  of  the  place  ! 

And  there !  among  the  hardened  soldiery 
See  Judas  stand !    O  worst  of  all  the  crew ! 

'•  Whom  seek  ye?  "  saith  the  Lord. 

They  answer  him, 
"  Jesus  of  Nazareth," 

Then 

"I  am  he." 


lu'ok  /■'ourf/i-  77ie  Awful  Shadow  of  Death.       319 

Biickwiiid  tlioy  move  and  fall  upon  the  ground. 
But  Judas,  bold  with  long  acquaintaucesliip, 
■  Steps  fortli; 

"  Hail  Master" 

Cries,  and  Msses  him! 

Ob,  meanest!  basest!  most  atrocious  crime 

E'er  witnessed  in  this  world's  sad  course  of  sin! 

A  simple  kiss!  yet  worse  than  dagger  thrust 

In  Caesar's  heart,  or  e'en  than  Cain's  foul  1)1  ow, 

That  laid  a  loving  brother  low  in  death ! 

Yea,  worse  than  Adam's  great  apostacy, 

That  plunged  a  world  in  sin,  and  death  and  woe  ! 

Did  Satan  e'er  attempt  a  greater  crime"? 

With  cool  premeditation  he  betrays 

Him  whom  he  owns  as  Master,  Friend,  and  Lord! 

And  by  the  token  of  affection  shows 

His  captors  (oh,  most  foul  hypocrisy  !) 

Him  whom,  they,  ordered,  all  unknowing,  seek. 

Ah !  can  he  think  thus  to  deceive  his  Lord? 

Already  has  that  Lord  his  coming  told, 

"  He  that  betray eth  me  is  now  at  hand." 

And  now  he  asks, 

"Friend,  wherefore  art  thou  come? 
Judas,  betrayest  thou  the  Son  of  Man 
E'en  with  a  kiss!" 

Oh,  could  our  trembling  lips 
Enjoy  that  most  exalted  privilege 
By  Judas  so  abused,  to  give  the  kiss 
Of  purest  filial,  reverential  love, 
'Twould  thrill  us  with  ineffable  delight! 


320  Bkmopsis. 

But  how  explain  this  act  of  luonstrous  guilt 

In  one  so  highly  favored  of  the  Lord  % 

"Great  is  the  mystery  of  godliness." 

"The  mystery  of  sin"  is  also  deep. 

Yet  may  we  draw  this  warning  for  ourselves, 

That  e'en  in  close  communion  with  the  Lord 

We  cannot  be  from  danger  wholly  safe, 

Lentil  our  hearts  are  purely,  wholly  his  ! 

We  cannot  God  and  Mammon  jointlj^  serve. 

O  Mammon  !    Thou  hast  murdered  multitudes! 

For  he  wiio,  thoughtlessly,  makes  thee  his  god, 

Soon  dwarfs  his  soul  to  pigmy  littleness, 

Seeming  to  scorn  it  as  a  thing  of  naught. 

Doubting  its  heirship  to  a  life  divine. 

And  pampering  as  supreme  his  fleshly  frame, 

His  chosen  god,  e'en  "glorying  in  his  shame," 

And  ''miuding  earthly  things,"  his  only  heaven, 

He  finds,  at  last,  his  god  but  sordid  dust. 

His  heaven  a  fleeting  dream,  his  soul  betrayed! 

How  many  souls  prefer  thy  gilded  chains, 

O  Mammon,  to  the  "glorious  liberty" 

With  which  Christ  makes  his  children  nobly  free  ! 

How  many  choose  thy  brief,  uncertain  joys, 

Before  the  certainty  of  endless  bliss ! 

How  many  prize  thy  winged  riches  here 

Above  the  treasures  of  the  "heirs  of  God!" 

O  fatal  love  of  gold !  thy  subtle  power 
Makes  fools  of  statesmen  and  philosophers. 
Yea,  e'en  disciples  of  the  lowly  Christ 


Book  Fourth — The  Awful  Shadoio  of  Death.      321 

(So  poor  he  liad  not  where  to  hiy  his  head), 
By  precept  and  example  wisdom  taught, 
May  still  be  blinded  by  the  love  of  gold! 

Deluded  Judas !    Sold  to  Satan  now. 

What  profiteth  thy  thirty  silver  bits  ? 

How  brief  the  joy  of  thine  ill-gotten  gains  ! 

How  cheaply  hast  thou  bargained  all  that's  dear ! 

To  sell  thy  Lord  thou  sellesfc  also  Heaven ! 

Thou  sellest  e'en  thine  own  poor  soul  to  Hell! 

What  dost  thou  gain  by  such  a  sacrifice? 

Thy  Maker's  dreadful  wrath,  the  Devil's  scorn, 

The  execration  and  contempt  of  men  ! 

Incredible  such  folly  seems  to  those 

Who  their  own  folly  for  a  while  forget. 

Yea,  scarce  might  we  believe,  did  not  our  eyes 

Behold  it  every  day !    Let  each  soul  pause, 

And  ponder  well  this  thought. 

Am  I  more  wise? 

Have  I,  to  any  earthly  idol  given 

The  place  in  mine  own  heart  that  Christ  should 

hold, 
And  sold  my  Lord  at  any  paltry  price. 
To  banishment  from  Lordship  o'er  my  soul  % 

But  look  !    The  soldiers  lay  their  hands  on  Christ ! 
Lo  !  zealous  Peter,  drawing  quick  his  sword. 
With  "  Master,  shall  I  smite  ? "  waits  not  reply. 
But  confident  in  Christ's  supporting  power. 

Counting  no  odds,  at  Malchus  aims  his  stroke. 

21 


322  Bionopsis. 

Quick  turning,  he  evades  a  deadly  wound, 
Losing  his  ear.    Our  Lord,  with  majesty, 
Says 

"Put  up  now  thy  sword  into  his  sheath, 
For  they  that  take  the  sword,  die  by  the  sword." 

Precepts  of  peace,  and  love  to  enemies, 
Christ  always  taught. 

He  now  exemplifies. 
He  needs  no  aid  like  this ;  for,  at  his  call, 
Twelve  legions  strong  of  spirits  quick  would  come. 
He  needs  no  sword  to  speed  his  loving  rule ; 
Its  motto  true  the  advent  angels  sang, 
^'  Glory  to  God,  and  peace,  good  will  to  man." 
His  spirit's  sword  is  but  the  Word  of  God. 

But  those  who  looked  to  Christ  to  use  his  power 
To  scatter  enemies  and  save  his  friends. 
Are,  at  his  strange  submission,  filled  with  fear. 
With  sudden  panic  they  foi'sake  the  Lord, 
"Like  sheej)  without  a  shepherd  scattered  wide.'' 

Left  friendless  Christ  is  now  a  prisoner  led. 

Abandoned  to  the  desperate  rage  of  foes. 

But  two  that  love  him  follow  him  afar. 

Another,  seized,  escapes,  but  leaves  his  cloak. 

Three  chosen  ones,  who  on  the  holy  Mount 

And  in  the  Garden,  in  the  agony. 

E'er  clung  the  closest  of  the  little  band. 

The  two  in  darkness  follow,  Avith  the  crowd, 

E'en  to  the  High  Priest's  palace.    John,  well  known, 


Book  Fouytit — Tin-  .lio/iil  S/unloio  of  Death.      323 

Loug  time  a  dweller  at  Jerusalem, 
Obtains  admittance  from  tlie  portress  maid. 
The  Galilean  Peter  stands  without. 
But  John  entreats  admission  for  his  friend. 
The  door  is  opened.     Entering  in  the  hall, 
He  sits,  among  the  servants,  by  the  fire, 
Chilled  by  the  vigils  of  the  night.     But  lo ! 
The  maid,  who  looks  intently  on  his  face, 
Lit  by  the  ruddy  glancing  light,  exclaims, 

"  Thou,  too,  wert  also  with  him ! " 

He  replies, 
''Nay,  woman,  I  was  not!" 

Ah!  coward  words ! 
A.  little  while,  and  now  still  otheis  say, 
"  Thou,  too,  art  one  of  them." 

Still  he  denies, 
E'en  with  an  oath. 

^'  I  do  not  know  the  man .'" 
O  Peter  1    List  the  cock ! 

He  tells  the  hour 
Of  coming  day.    How  little  dreameth  he 
That,  in  the  wondrous  providence  of  God, 
His  voice  is  timed  to  warn  thee  of  thy  sin ! 
Hast  thou  so  soon  forgot  ?     This  is  indeed 
The  hour  of  darkness,  and  of  Satan's  power ! 

Still  others  now,  with  Malchus'  cousin,  come, 
And  say, 

"  Most  surely  thou  art  also  one. 
Thou  art  a  Galilean.     And  thy  speech 


324  Bionopsis. 

Bewray eth  thee." 

But  still  more  earnestly, 
Peter,  beginning  now  to  curse  and  swear, 
Denies,  and  says, 

'■''  I  do  not  know  the  man! " 

For  shame !    O  man !    Be  true,  for  very  shame  ! 
List  Peter  !    Once  again,  the  crowing  cock ! 

And  see  the  Lord  himself!    He  turns  on  thee 
A  look  so  sad,  so  full  of  meek  reproach, — 
It  says, 

"  Rememberest  thou  my  prophecy?" 

Fair  reader,  wilt  thou  venture  to  condemn 
With  sterner  judgment  trembling  Peter's  fault? 
We  own  its  baseness,  and  its  cowardice ; — 
But  here  our  human  nature  stands  revealed ! 

Nay  !    Say  not  we  forget  the  heroes  bold, 
Who  for  their  country  offered  uj)  their  lives, 
Brave  Codes  at  the  bridge,  or  Scaevola 
Thrusting  his  hand  unshrinking  in  the  flames. 
We  praise  the  brave.     Our  very  heaits  are  thrilled 
By  deeds  of  lofty  valor  in  the  fight. 
But  Peter  too  was  brave,  when  with  liis  Lord. 
Let  Malchus  testify,  with  all  his  friends ! 
Or  see  him  venturing  on  the  stormy  deep ! 
What  bravest  mortal  ever  ventured  more  ? 
But  ah!    'Twas  when,  in  all  humility. 
He  first  had  prayed, 

"My  Master,  bid  me  come!" 


Book  Fourth— The  Awful  Shadow  of  Death.      3-: 5 

Twas  in  Christ's  power  be  walked;  and  when  his 

faith 
Began  to  waver,  he  began  to  sink. 
But  wlien  in  self  he  trusted,  boasting  loud, 
Of  courage  and  devotion,  though  sincere, 
He  learned  in  bitterness  the  lesson  hard. 
The  weakness  of  his  flesh  ! — his  need  of  grace ! 

Presume  not  then  on  any  natural  strength. 
From  precept  and  example  learn  thy  need. 
And  take  thou  heed  ne'er  to  deny  thy  Lord, 
In  any  scoffing,  godless  company! 

That  look  of  meek  reproof  pierced  Peter's  heart. 
Ah!    Grieved,  and  humbled  now,  he  hastens  forth. 
And  in  the  porch  pours  forth  his  soul  in  tears. 
Hot  tears  of  deepest  shame,  and  bitterest  grief. 
But  tears  are  weak  to  tell  the  torture  keen 
That  rends  the  poor  disciple's  loving  heart. 
We  almost  hear  the  outcry  of  his  soul ! 
We  almost  feel  its  throbbing  agony  ! 

"Oh,  wretch  of  wretches!    How  shall  I  redeem 
My  tarnished  honor  in  my  Master's  eyes? 
Where!  my  vile  head,  in  self  abasement,  hide? 
What  penance  may  I  do?    Alas  !    Alas  ! 
That  I  should  boast  so  high  !  should  sink  so  low  ! 
That  in  this  hour,  when  my  beloved  Lord 
So  needs  a  friend,  I  should  his  name  deny  I 
Alas !  that  I  another  pang  should  add     • 
E'en  to  the  speechless  anguish  of  his  soul! 


326  Bionopsis> 

0  Satau,  must  I  call  thee  to  avenge 

My  Master's  wrong  upon  my  guilty  soul  % 
No!    No!    Too  great  thy  foul  advantage  now 
My  Master's  warning  rings  within  my  heart. 

1  seem  e'en  now  to  hear  his  gentle  voice, 
"  Simon !    Simon !    Satan  hath  desired 

To  have  thee,  and  to  sift  thy  soul  as  wheat ; 
But  I  have  prayed  for  thee,  thy  faith  fail  not." 
And  shall  I  nevermore  on  earth  obtain 
Pardon  and  benediction  of  my  Lord  % 
Is  this  the  last  farewell  ?    Is  this  the  end 
Of  all  the  sweet  communion,  glorious  hope, 
And  daily  blessing  of  the  years  now  sped  I 
Be  this  the  end  at  least  of  mortal  pride. 
Henceforth  in  constant  penitence  I  spend 
The  few  remaining  years  of  withered  life." 


That  through  death  he  might  destroy  him  that  had  the 
power  of  death,  and  deliver  them  icho  through  fear  <f 
death  ivere  all  their  lifetime  subject  to  bondage.  ,  Heb. 
ii.  14, 15. 


PROEM. 

How  shall  we  couquer  death'? 

Restraining-  tears?    Subduing  every  groan  ? 

Dismissing  thought  ?     And  stifling  every  inoauj 

And  summoning  our  fortitude  alone, 

Shall  we  resign  our  breath  *? 

Ah !  this  were  vain  pretense ! 
Oh,  let  the  savage  act  the  part  of  lies, 
Who  at  the  very  stake  his  foe  defies. 
His  look  of  triumph  all  within  denies, — 
Each  quivering  sense. 

Stern  death  we  cannot  cheat ! 
To  feign  a  triumph  that  we  do  not  feel, 
While  his  benumbing  fingers  o'er  us  steal 
To  still  our  hearts,  and  fast  our  eyelids  seal. 
Is  folly,  and  deceit. 

We  need  a  higher  power. 
When  all  the  brightness  of  this  life  is  i)ast 
And  Satan's  toils  around  our  souls  are  cast, 
To  break  the  fetters  of  a  power  so  vast. 
And  cheer  the  dying  hour. 

We  need  the  help  of  One, 

Full  able  to  destroy  the  hellish  foe, 

W^ho  yields,  to  save  our  souls  from  death  and  woe. 

His  own  beloved  bosom  to  the  blow. 

And  conquers  all  alone. 

329 


BOOK  FIFTH. 

The  appointed  day,  reluctaDt,  now  arrives, 

Most  awful  day  on  which  the  sun  e'er  smiled ! — 

A  feeble,  sickly  smile,  forbodiug  Avoe ! 

O  patient  sun  !     How  canst  thou  smile  again  ? 

O  red-eyed  morn  !     How  canst  thou  now  army 

Thyself,  this  day,  in  robes  of  rosy  light? 

How  canst  thou  still  with  faithful  fingers  dress 

All  nature  in  her  daily  loveliness, 

That  should  be  vailed  in  blackest  weeds  of  woe? 

Still  beautiful  in  grief,  thou  lookest  down 

On  scenes  more  fit  for  deepest  midnight  gloom  I 

The  glorious  Son  of  Heaven's  Almighty  King, 
Before  whose  throne  the  mightiest  seraphs  bend 
"With  deepest  reverence,  most  adoriug  love, 
Before  whom,  sometime  every  knee  shall  bow 
Of  things   in   Heaven,   on  Earth,   and  'nealh   the 

Earth, 
Is  now  arraigned  before  a  human  court ! 
A  court  unjust,  of  bitterest  enemies. 
Already  pre-determined  to  condemn. 
Yea,  buying  his  betrayal  with  a  bribe ! 
A  filthy  bribe,  which  they  themselves  decide 
Unfit  to  cast  into  the  treasury. 

But  forms  of  justice  still  must  be  observed, 
And  suborned  witnesses  are  brought,  to  show, 
By  testimony  false,  some  heinous  crime 

331 


332  Bionopsis. 

Deserving  death.     But  still  they  wholly  fail. 

But  two  at  length  appear  to  testify 

Some  speech  against  the  Temple  of  the  Lord. 

"  Destroy  this  temple,"  said  the  Saviour  once, 
Concerning  tiieir  premeditated  crime, 
''  And  I  will  build  it  up  within  three  days." 
These  words  his  foes  are  willing  to  pervert, 
But  fail  to  make  their  witnessing  agree. 

But  now  the  High  Priest  speaks  to  Christ,  himself. 
Oh,  contrast  strange!    The  priest  in  splendid  robes. 
And  lofty  tiara,  with  visage  stern, 
In  his  own  palace,  seated  on  a  throne, 
Attended  by  his  guards,  and  honored  high. 
With  reverence  profound,  by  those  who  stand 
Within  his  august  i)resence,  ready  all 
To  trust  his  word,  and  execute  his  will. 
Before  him,  lo  !  the  humble  I^Tazarene ! 
Lone  standing,  dressed  in  meek  simplicity ! 

''What  of  thyself,  and  doctrine  % " 

Cries  the  priest. 
He  answers  clear, 

"  I  e'er  spake  openly 
In  synagogue  and  temple  day  by  day, 
Whither  the  Jews  resort.     Why,  then,  ask  me  ? 
Ask  them  who  heard  me  speak,  what  I  have  said." 

Kow  seek  thy  witnesses  against  the  Lord. 
But  lo !  a  zealous  minion  of  the  priest. 
Advancing  smites  him  with  the  open  palm. 


Book  Fifth  —The  Height  of  Sin  and  Death.        333 

"  What?    Aiiswerest  thou  tlie  Higli  Priest  so ! "  he 

cries. 
But  calm,  beneath  this  foul  indignity, 
Christ  answere, 

"  If  I  aught  of  evil  spoke, 
Bear  witness  of  the  evil,  but  if  good. 
Why  smitest  thou  then  me  *? " 

These  words  alone 
Eebuke  the  rude,  outrageoiLS  insolence. 
The  judge's  silence  but  endorsed  the  wrong. 

But  now  the  High  Priest  asks  the  Lord  again, 

''  I  now  adjure  thee  by  the  living  God  ! 

TeU  me  the  truth !    Art  thou  the  Son  of  God  ?  " 

Oh,  solemn  words !    The  truth  he  taught  before. 
In  sermons  and  in  conversations  oft, 
He  now  is  called  to  testify  on  oath. 

Xor  does  the  Lord  deny  the  wondrous  truth. 
Affirming  it  in  life,  he  testifies, 
By  solemn  oath,  in  view  of  j)ending  death, 
And  dies,  a  martyr  to  the  sacred  truth  ! 

He  first  rebukes  the  unbelief  of  men 

Whom  no  plain  utterance  fi-om  the  Lord  himself 

Could  e'er  convince — no  proof  could  satisfj' — 

Thus, 

"  If  I  tell  you,  ye  will  not  believe." 
But  to  the  High  Priest's  question  he  replies, 


334  Bionopsis. 

"  I  AM. 

And  ye  shall  see  the  Son  of  Man 
Sit  on  tlie  right  hand  of  the  power  of  God, 
And  coming  in  the  very  clouds  of  Heaven." 

The  High  Priest  rends  his  garments,  crying  out, 

"  He  speaketh  blasphemies ! 

What  further  need 
Have  we  of  witnesses  %    Your  judgment  give  ! " 

They  all  exclaim  at  once, 

''Guilty  of  death!" 

Their  awful  verdict  echoes  through  the  world. 
It  must  re-echo  till  the  end  of  time ! 
And  yet — if  Christ  were  false, — 

His  doom  were  just ! 
He  who  could  live  a  lie  most  blasphemous, 
And,  in  the  dread  solemnity  of  death. 
Could  swear  the  same  before  the  living  God, 
If  false  in  fact,  were  false  in  heart  and  soul  I 
Or  if  deceived,  were  so  deceived  by  Hell. 

'Tis  thought  by  fools,  that  Christ  was  lunatic. 
No  wise  man  calls  him  thus,  of  friends  oi-  foes. 
Nor  does  his  life  show  trace,  in  word  or  deed. 
Of  mental  weakness  or  incompetence. 
Attempting  nothing  he  could  not  perform. 
And  uttering  naught  of  foolish  wild  conceit. 
His  life  was  "holy,  harmless,  undefiled," 
His  wisdom  practical,  while  most  profouud. 


Book  Fifth — Tlic  Hciglit  of  Sin  and  Death.        335 

But  what  the  mental  character  of  hini, 

Who,  in  full  view  of  Christ's  most  wondrous  life, 

And  all  the  prophecies  fulfilled  in  him, 

And  faith  of  millions  saved  bj-  him  from  sin, 

Would  shun  a  right  conclusion,  wise,  and  good, 

For  empty  unsupported  theory  ? 

Or  what  of  those  who  deem  the  verdict  just, 

And  only  call  the  sentence  too  severe? 

This  judgment  rests  upon  his  outward  guise. 
A  plain  and  rough-clad  man,  he  seems  no  more. 
While  now  an  unresisting  captive  led. 

"But  not  according  to  appearance  judge," 
These  were  his   words,    "  but  righteous  judgment 
give." 

And  have  they  now  forgot  his  mighty  deeds? 
Nay,  but  their  own  interpretation  give, 
As,  "  by  Beelzebub  he  casteth  out 
Foul  spirits,"  and  ' '  he  could  not  be  of  God 
Because  he  keepeth  not  the  Sabbath  day." 
Nay,  e'  en  when  Lazarus  issued  from  the  tomb, 
They  plotted  all  the  more  to  end  his  work 
(And  Lazarus  too  they  purposed  to  destroy). 
They  said  among  themselves, 

"What  shall  we  do? 
For  this  man  worketh  many  miracles, 
And  soon  all  will  believe,  and  foes  will  come, 
And  e'en  our  place  and  nation  take  away." 

'Twas  then  Caiaphas  gave  this  counsel  sage. 
Whose  deepest  meaning  he  himself  knew  not. 


336  Bionopsis. 

•'  It  is  expedient  that  one  should  die, 
And  that  the  very  nation  perish  not." 

A  foul  expediency,  most  unjust, 

Controls  their  minds,  and  guides  their  fell  decree. 

Ah !  feared  they  more  the  judgments  of  their  God, 
Less  would  they  fear  the  fui  y  of  their  foes. 
The  doom  they  feared,  God's  righteous  judgments 
bring. 

"The  hidden  wisdom  of  the  sons  of  God," 
These  haughty  "  princes  of  the  world  know  not, 
For  did  they  know,  they  would  not  crucify 
The  Lord  of  glory,"  their  own  piomised  king. 

From  principles  of  worldly  policy. 
Opposed  to  those  of  faith  and  piety, 
May  God  deliver  all  his  children  true. 
Ah,  wiser  far,  far-seeing  faith  in  God, 
And  safer,  all  the  paths  of  righteousness. 

But  wild  infatuation  rules  the  hour. 

The  Devil  triumphs,  making  fools  of  men. 

To  cast  his  hellish  insults  on  their  king. 

Blinded  themselves  by  sin,  and  Satan's  art. 

They  blindfold  him !     They  buffet  with  their  fists  ! 

Oh,  dreadful  sacrilege  !     Oh,  ci  uel  hate ! 

Apollyon  in  his  dark  concealment  laughs, 

While  guardian  angels  scarce  restrain  their  tears ! 

Ah  !  how  doth  God  withhold  his  thnnderbolts"? 

Infinite  love,  and  wisdom  all  divine 

Alone  could  bear  the  base  indignity. 


Book  Fifth — The  Height  of  Sin  and  Death.        337 

The  children  of  the  Devil  have  then-  way, 
Eevile  their  Lord  with  foulest  mockery, 
Smite  with  their  palms,  e'en  spit  upon  his  face, 
And  bid  him 

"Prophesy,  who  smiteth  thee." 
Ah!    did  they  know  how  Christ  doth  read  theii 

hearts, 
And  knows  them  all,  the  willing  slaves  of  sin, 
How  would  their  coward  souls  dissolve  with  fear  ! 
How  doth  their  conduct  openly  betray 
Their  secret  hearts  at  enmity  to  God. 
They  would  not  dare  defy  God's  wnitli  revealed  ; 
But  lo  !  incarnate  goodness,  in  their  power. 
They  deem  the  proper  object  of  their  hate. 

Their  dread  decree  they  dare  not  execute, 
Yet  seek  the  sanction  not  of  God  but  man. 
To  Pilate's  bar  they  lead  their  injured  Lord. 

H:  *  *  *  *  Jf! 

Unconsciously  the  Eoman  governor 

Awaits  the  crucial  hour  that  seals  his  fate, 

And  blasts  his  name  with  endless  infamy. 

O  dreadful  billow  on  the  sea  of  time, 

That  lifts  before  the  world  his  worthless  name, 

Forevermore  the  synonym  of  shame ! 

O  hateful  tyranny  of  previous  guilt, 

Constraining  guilty  souls  to  crimes  they  dread ! 

He  longs  for  honor  from  his  fellow  men, 

Yet    links    his  name  with  murd'rous  priests  and 

scribes. 
Despised  and  hated  in  his  inmost  soul,-— 


338  Bioiiopsis. 

Yea,  links  it  with  the  Traitor's  branded  name, 
As  one,  who,  iu  the  hall  of  judgment  gives 
To  ignominious  death  the  innocent, 
Whom  his  own  lips  pronounce  without  a  fault ! 
Proud  of  his  name  and  lineage,  he  aspires 
To  loftier  heights  of  glory  and  renown. 
In  Herod's  palace,  he,  a  Eoman  knight, 
Elated  sees  his  growing  fame  and  power. 
The  unwonted  splendoi-  dazzles  every  sense. 
Pillars  and  fountains,  vast  extended  halls, 
And  tessalated  pavements,  laid  with  stones 
Of  marble,  agate,  and  of  lazuli, 
And  ceilings  rich  with  cedar,  decked  with  gold, 
And  chambers  filled  with  richest  gems  of  art. 
And  servants  hastening  at  his  every  beck, 
And  iron-hearted  soldiers  for  his  guards. 
All  these  conspire  to  fill  his  heart  with  pride. 
He  deems  himself  a  hero,  dreaming  oft 
Such  pomp  and  splendor  soon  shall  be  his  own. 

Vain  dreams !    He  seeks  not  first  the  gift  of  God 
Rewarding  virtue,  faith,  and  righteousness, 
Justice  towards  men,  and  piety  towards  God, 
With  strong  fidelity  to  truth  and  right. 
Were  these  his  principles  when  trial  comes, 
He  could  not  hesitate  in  selfish  doubt. 
Nor,  like  a  coward,  palter  with  his  foes. 
A  glorious  opportunity  were  his 
To  learn  the  truth,  and  recognize  his  Lord, 
And,  by  a  just  decree,  to  write  his  name 


Book  Fifth —  The  Height  of  Sin  and  Death.        339 

With  Christ's,  in  endless  glory,  and  renown. 

But  base  expediency  guides  his  acts, 

And  plunges  into  deep  perplexity, 

Yea,  into  crime,  and  judgments  following  guilt! 

But  hark  !    What  tumult  now  demands  his  care? 
Men  of  the  highest  rank  ajjproach  his  gates, — 
A  noisy  rabble  following  at  their  heels, — 
And  leading  in  a  prisoner  to  the  court. 
Yet  they,  the  leaders,  will  not  enter  in, — 
Vain  hypocrites, — lest  they  should  be  defiled ! 
Though  all  their  souls  are  foul  with  blackest  guilt ! 
So,  first,  the  Governor  goes  forth  to  them, 

"  What  accusations  bring  ye  'gainst  this  man  % ' ' 

Thus  Pilate,  bold,  demands,  with  much  contempt 
Of  Jewish  superstitions,  forms,  and  laws. 
Yet  he  would  fain  remit  this  cause  to  them. 

"  Take  him,  and  try  according  to  your  law." 

In  vain  !    Eternal  wisdom  has  decreed 

That  Christ  must  die,  and  by  a  death  accursed, — 

Thus  to  redeem  our  sin-cursed  souls,  "be  made 

A  curse  for  us,"  for  so  his  word  declares, 

"  Cursed  is  every  one  that  hangeth  on  a  tree." 

'Twas  taught  by  ancient  symbols — Lifted  up. 

Behold  the  serpent  cursed  by  God  and  man, 

Yet  giving  life  to  all  who  look  in  faith ! 

And  Christ  declared,  "So  must  the  Son  of  Man 
Be  lifted  up,"  and  David  prophesied 


34°  Bionopsis. 

The  rage  of  beastly  men  against  their  Lord, — 
Their  very  words  of  bitter  hate  and  scorn, 
"  He  trusted  on  the  Lord," — their  very  deeds, 
"  They  pierced  my  hands  and  feet." 

Lo  !  Pilate  now ! 
The  guilty,  yet  unwilling  instrument ! 
Yet  not  constrained  (O  mysteiy  profound !) 
By  any  impulse  from  a  power  divine 
(The  very  thought  revolting,  and  absurd), 
Eeluctant  now,  he  feels  the  galling  chains 
Which  Satan  round  his  guilty  captives  casts, 
So  leading  them  to  deeper  depths  of  crime. 
From  which  their  shuddering  souls  shrink  back  in 


vain 


But  priests  and  scribes,  inflamed  with  hellish  fire, 
Pretending  sanctity,  and  zeal  for  God, 
"  Like  roaring,  and  fierce  ravening  lions,''  rage, 
And  "gape  upon  him  with  their  mouths,"  in  hate. 

Pilate  retires,  and  in  the  judgment  hall 
He  asks  the  Lord, 

"  King  of  the  Jcavs  art  thou "? " 
Christ  answers, 

"  Askest  thou  this  thing  thyself, 
Or  else  did  others  tell  it  thee  of  me?" 
Art  thou  sincere, — a  seeker  after  truth  % 
Or  questioning  of  charges  base  and  false  ? 
"  Am  I  a  Jew  ? "     He  scornfully  replies. 
' '  Thy  nation  hath  delivered  thee  to  me. 
What  hast  thou  done!" 


Book  Fifth  — The  Ih-ii^/if  of  Sin  and  Death.        341 

"My  kingdom,"  saith  the  Lord, 
"  Is  not  of  this  world,  else  my  sons  would  fight." 

"  Art  thou  a  king  then  %  " 

"  As  thou  say  est.    A  King ! 
To  this  end  was  I  born,  and  for  this  cause 
I  came  into  this  world,  that  I  should  bear 
My  witness  to  the  truth,  and  every  one, 
Who  is  a  child  of  truth,  doth  hear  my  voice." 

"What  is  the  truth!" 

Proud  Pilate  lightly  asks, 
But  waits  not  Christ's  reply.    He  plainly  shows 
That  he  himself  is  not  a  child  of  truth ; 
Yet  knows  at  least  that  Christ  is  innocent 
Of  crimes  so  falsely  charged,  and  hastens  forth 
His  judgment  to  declare  to  those  without. 
He  does  not  know  the  o]3portuuity 
He  lightly  throws  away. 

'Tis  ever  thus 
With  those  that  do  not  willingly  receive 
"  The  love  of  God  that  they  might  thus  be  saved." 

Fresh  accusations  greet  the  Governor's  ears, 
But  Jesus  silent  stands,  without  a  word, 
E'en  as  a  "harmless  lamb  to  slaughter  led, 
Or  as  a  sheep  before  her  shearers  dumb," 
He  hears  it  all,  but  "  openeth  not  his  mouth." 

Now  Pilate  marvels  greatly, 

^'Hear'st  thou  not 

How  many  things  'gainst  thee  they  testify  ? " 
t6 


342  Bionopsis. 

But  to  the  priests  and  people  he  declares, 

"  I  find  no  fault  in  him.'' 

At  once  they  cry, 
"  From  Galilee  e'en  to  this  holy  place 
He  stirreth  up  the  people  !  " 

Aye!    'Tistrue! 
From  lethargy,  from  worldliness,  and  sin — 

"Seek  first  God's  kingdom  and  his  righteousness." 

To  make  himself  an  earthly  king  % 

How  false ! 
But  Pilate,  glad  to  hear  of  Galilee, 
Sends  him  forthwith,  to  Herod  Antiiias, — 
A  wretch  most  vile  and  dissolute,  though  king. 

The  tyrant  hopes  to  see  some  miracle, — 
Deeming  a  juggler  honored  to  perform 
Before  a  king!     Oh,  vain,  absurd  conceit! 
And  so  he  questions  him  in  many  words, 
While  vehemently  priests  and  scribes  accuse. 

The  Lord  disdains  to  answer  him  a  word ! 

Offended  now,  he  sets  his  Lord  at  naught, 

And  mocking,  with  his  soldiers,  sends  him  back, 

Clothed  with  a  purj)le  robe,  to  Pilate's  court. 

Thus  buffeted  and  bandied  to  and  fro. 
His  "soul  exceeding  filled  with  deej)  contemjit," 
His  love  requited  with  the  bitterest  hate, 
The  patient  sufierer  waits  to  hear  his  doom. 


Book  Fifth — The  Height  of  Sin  and  Death.        343 

His  very  judge  now  pleads  for  his  release  ! 

Proclaiming,  once  again,  bis  innocence, 

As  also  uncondemn od  at  Herod's  court. 

In  vain  I     The  Prince  of  Darkness  rules  the  hour, 

Determined  that  the  Prince  of  Life  shall  die. 

Xow,  at  this  feast,  the  custom  grants  release 

To  such  a  prisoner  as  the  people  ask. 

A  blood-stained  desperado  lies  in  bonds 

And  waits  his  righteous  doom.    But  priests  persuade 

The  hesitating  people  to  demand 

That  e'en  a  robber,  and  a  murderer, 

Should  now  escape,  nor  Jesus  be  released ! 

"What,    then,"   says    Pilate,   "shall    we    do  with 
Christ?" 

Satanic  fury  fills  the  gathered  crowd. 
Their  voices  loud  and  angry  rend  the  air 
With, 

"  Crucify !     Away  with  such  a  man  ! " 
"  Away  with  such  a  fellow  from  the  earth ! " 

"  But  why  ? "  he  pleads, 

"  What  evil  hath  he  done  % " 
But  more  exceedingly  they  cry  aloud, 

"  Away !    Away  !    Let  him  be  crucified ! " 

Then  Pilate  hoping  to  escape  the  guilt, 
And  troubled  in  his  mind  by  warning  dreams 
Of  Claudia,  his  wife,  yet  willing  still 
To  pacify  the  people,  water  takes, 


344  Bionopsis. 

Washing  his  hands  in  presence  of  them  all, 
Proclaiming, 

'^  I,  at  least,  am  innocent 
Of  this  most  just  man's  blood.     See  ye  to  it.'' 

Ah !  vain  the  thought !   By  outward  forms  to  cleanse 

That  stain  indelible,  which  all  the  seas 

Or  powers  on  eartli  can  never  wash  away  ! — 

Naught  but  the  cleansing  blood  itself, 

Eeceived  by  faith  in  truest  penitence ! 

Now  hear  the  dreadful  curse  these  men  invoke! 
"His  blood  on  us,  and  on  our  children  ])o  ! " 

Through  Heaven  and  deepest  Hell,  through  all  the 

earth, 
Through  all  succeeding  ages  echoing  goes 
This  awful  malediction  on  their  race ! 
And  shuddering  history  trembles  to  record 
The  deeds  of  blood  and  desolation  wrought, 
In  answer  and  fulfillment  of  their  prayer. 

Oh,  dreadful  depths  of  ruin,  guilt,  and  woe. 
Where  Satan  cajitive  leads  his  willing  dupes. 
Blinded  by  fury,  folly,  lust,  or  greed ! 

Now  Pilate  binds  the  victim  fast  with  cords, 
And  bids  the  lictors  bring  the  dreadful  scourge. 
Whose  leathern  thongs,  knotted  with  metal  points 
Draw  blood  at  every  stroke,  and  tear  tlie  flesh  ! 

Oh,  hideous  torture ;    Lord  how  canst  thou  bear, 
Patient  and  silent  still,  such  shame  and  pain? 


Poo/:  Fifth —  The  Height  of  Sin  and  Death.         ^145 

The  baibaious  soldiers  uow,  Avitli  fieiulish  glee, 
Conduct  the  bleeding  sufferer  to  their  hall, 
And  gather  all  the  band  to  join  their  sport. 
They  strip  and  clothe  him  with  the  purple  robe, 
They  place  a  reed  for  sceptre  in  his  hand, 
A  crown  of  platted  thorns  upon  his  head. 
In  foulest  mockery  they  bow  the  knee. 

"  King  of  the  Jews  rejoice !    All  hail ! ' '    They  cry. 
They  spit  upon  him,  smite  him  with  the  reed. 
And,  mocking  still,  pretend  to  worship  him  ! 

O  patient  Heaven  !    How  long,  O  Lord,  how  long  ? 
Shall  men  like  beasts,  like  furious  fiends  of  Hell, 
E'en  worse  than  devils  dare,  defy  thy  wrath? 
"Why  standest  thou  far  off,  O  Lord,  my  strength? 
Oh,  haste  to  help  !    Deliver  from  the  sword  ! 
Thy  darling  from  the  power  of  the  dog ! " 

And  canst  thou,  Jesus,  stoop  so  low  to  man  ? 
Canst  thou  submit  to  such  indignities? 
Why  dost  thou  not  in  judgment  speak  the  word 
To  blast  thy  foes  e'en  like  j- on  withered  fig  ? 

Patience !    Xot  yet,  not  yet  the  time  arrives ! 
Kot  till  the  work  is  finished,  judgment  o'er, 
A  righteous  judgment  passed,  and  souls  are  saved, 
Redeemed,  by  Jesus,  from  eternal  wrath. 

"  Whj^  do  the  heathen  rage  ?     The  people  dream 
Vain  things?     The  kings  of  earth  array  themselves. 
The  rulers  counsel  take  against  the  Lord, 


34^  Bionopsis. 

And  his  Anointed!    'Let  us  break  their  bands, 
And  cast  away  from  us  their  riven  cords.' 
He  that  abideth  in  the  Heaven,  doth  laugh  ! 
With  deep  derision  he  regards  their  rage." 

But  grace  not  vengeance  triumphs  in  this  hour, 
Kind  pity  for  the  multitudes  misled, 
Forbearance  towards  the  worst  and  bitterest  foes, 
And  yearning  love  to  souls  thus  lost  in  sin! 
'Tis  love  sustains  and  comforts  Jesus'  soul, 
And  love  restrains  the  Father's  burning  wrath ! 
He  views  the  triumph  of  his  Son  well  pleased. 
An  "offering  and  a  sacrifice  to  God,"' 
To  save  the  guilty  from  the  final  wrath. 

Oh,  glorious  triumph!    Satan,  baffled  once. 
As  simple  Tempter,  offering  subtle  bribes. 
Is  conquered  now !     In  vain  he  seeks  to  whelm 
By  brutal  force,  and  thus  subdue  Christ's  soul. 
Or  shake  his  perfect  love  and  trust  towards  God, 
Or  taint  his  spirit  with  the  smallest  sin ! 
Blackest  ingratitude  and  foulest  wrong 
Moved  not  his  soul  to  passion  or  revenge ! 

But  now,  the  mockery  o'er,  the  cross  prei3ared. 
The  Governor  leads  the  royal  victim  forth, 
Clad  in  his  purple  robe,  and  platted  crown. 
And  cries, 

"Behold  the  man!" 

Oh,  yes!  "A man!" 
In  every  fibre  of  his  being  tried. 
And  j)roved  "a  man,"  in  every  manly  grace, 


Book  Fifth — 17ic  Height  of  Sin  a7ui  Death.        347 

In  manly  fortitude,  and  manly  strength, 
To  bear  the  worst  that  malice  could  inflict, 
And  manly  courage,  standing  up  unawed 
By  priests  or  rabble.  Governor,  or  King, 
Yea,  all  alone,  'gainst  Earth  and  Hell  combined! 
But  more  than  manly  in  the  perfect  poise 
Of  all  the  higher  virtues  of  the  soul. 
True  dignity,  with  gentle  meekness  joined. 
Deep  hate  of  sin,  with  most  forgiving  love. 
Patience  sublime,  that,  w  ith  the  mighty  power 
To  crush  the  insulting  foe,  endures  their  wrath 
To  save  their  gnilty  souls  from  wrath  of  Heaven ! 

"Behold  the  man!" 

The  rightful  King  of  men 
Arrayed  in  mockery  of  his  royal  rights! 
By  sinful  men  rejected  and  despised. 
But  crowned  with  glory  in -the  sight  of  Heaven 
O  crown  of  thorns !     Thine  e^  ery  blood-stained  jDoint, 
More  precious  than  the  diamonds  of  the  earth, 
Bespeaks  God's  love,  begetting  loyal  love 
In  countless  throbbing  hearts  of  souls  redeemed ! 

"  Behold ! "  Ye  priests  of  Zion's  holy  hill ! 

Oh,  if  your  hearts  are  human,  now  behold 

The  sacred  person  of  your  "  Christ,"  abused ! 

Oh,  see  the  trickling  streams  of  David's  blood 

Flow  from  that  brow  of  sacred  majestj' ! 

That  blood-stained  robe!      It  speaks  the  dreadful 

scourge ! 
That  kingly  countenance,  so  pale  and  calm! 


34^  Bionopsis. 

'Tis  full  of  holiest  love  for  sinful  man! 

Ah !     Should  it  kindle  wrath  in  Judah's  sons ! 

Those  eyes, — so  full  of  grief, — should  teach  your  eyes 

To  weep  with  pity  for  the  Saviour's  woes. 

Melt  not  your  hearts?     Has  Satan  full  control! 

"Behold  the  man!" 

Oh,  spectacle  of  shame ! 
Shame,  O  ye  monsteis,  clothed  in  sacred  robes, 
Pretended  ministers  of  righteousness ! 
Ye  hypocrites !     Ye  speak  of  one  true  God, 
And  for  j)retence  ye  offer  lengthy  prayers. 
Yet,  destitute  of  all  true  love  to  God, 
Ye  hate  the  man  who  makes  him  manifest, 
Because  your  nature  vile,  his  words  expose. 
Your  holy  horror  of  his  blasphemies, 
Was  secret  triumph  o'er  a  man  ye  feared, 
Whom  hitherto  ye  sought  to  trap  in  vain. 
Ye  feared  his  dread  rebukes  that  pierced  your  souls. 
And  knew  his  power  to  hurl  you  from  your  place. 
Ye  children  of  the  Devil  in  God's  house. 
Bold  in  your  unbelief,  ye  throned  yourselves, 
And  turned  it  to  ''a  place  of  merchandise." 
Ye  give  the  Master  to  the  hands  of  foes. 
Now  when  the  foe  himself  some  pity  shows, 
When  e'en  a  Eoman  soldier  sets  him  forth, 
And  by  the  silent  i^lea  "Behold  the  man," 
Would  move  you  by  the  touching  spectacle. 
Your  only  answer  to  the  soldier's  plea 
Once  more  is, 

"  Crucify  him  !  crucify  ! " 


Ihwk  Fifth--  The  Height  of  Sin  and  Death.        349 

Ye  serpents!     Hissing  your  contempt  and  luite, 
Ye  vip'rous  brood,  how  can  your  souls  escape 
The  just  damnation  of  the  Hell  ye  serve? 

"Behold  the  man!"     O  Earth,  behold  the  man, 

Of  all  mankind  the  purest,  noblest,  best, 

The  friend  of  sinners,  enemy  of  sin. 

Yet  nov,-  a  spectacle  to  earth  and  Heaven, 

Condemned  of  Hell,  because  the  Son  of  God! 

For  Pilate  says, 

"Take  ye,  and  crucify, 
For  I,  in  him,  can  find  no  fault  at  all." 

Now  they  confess  the  only  fault  they  find. 
"^\"e  have  a  law  by  which  he  ought  to  die. 
In  that  he  made  himself 

The  Son  of  God!" 
"The  Son  of  God?" 
At  this  e'en  Pilate  fears, 
And  enters,  once  again,  the  judgment  hall. 

"  Whence  art  thou ! " 

Jesus  answers  not  a  word. 
"Answerest  thou  uotf     Kuowest   not   that  I  have 

power 
Either  to  crucify,  or  let  thee  go ! " 

Ah  !  Pilate.    Thus  condemnest  thou  thyself! 

'"Xo  power  against  me  couldst  thou  have  at  all, 
Save  what  is  given  thee  from  above.     For  this 
He  that  delivered  me  hath  greater  sin." 


35c)  Biouopsis. 

Now  Pilate  seeks  again  to  let  him  go. 
In  vain !    They  cry, 

''If  thou  let  this  man  go 
Thou  art  not  Csesar's  friend." 

Now  Pilate  fears 
The  wi-ath  of  man  more  than  the  doom  of  sin. 
He  yields  the  guiltless  prisoner  to  their  wrath ! 
The  die  is  cast !     But  still  he  throws  a  taunt 
On  those  he  fears,  yet  scorns. 

"  Behold  your  king  ! " 
Tumultuous  shouts  burst  forth  in  hoarse  rc'sponse, 
*' Away  with!     Crucify  him  !     Crucify!'' 

"  What!     Crucify  your  king!" 

He  pleads  again 
Half  in  defiant,  angry  mocker j^. 
And  half  in  pity  for  the  innocent, — 
Half  ready  to  believe  his  righteous  claims. 

"We  have  no  king  but  Csesar  !" 

Loud  they  cry, 
Rejecting  their  own  David's  mighty  Son. 
And  still  loud  voices  cry  out, 

"Crucify!" 
Alas !    Behold  the  dreadful  fruit  of  guilt ! 
The  soul  of  man, — formed  to  delight  in  God, 
To  learn  of  him  from  all  his  wondrous  works. 
And  as  a  polished  mirror  to  reflect 
His  glorious  image,  growing  more  like  God,— 


Book  FiffJi—Thc  Height  of  Sin  and  Death.        351 

By  Adam's  first  transgression  (deemed  so  small 

By  those  who  know  not  God,  nor  sin's  dread  power) 

Forever  alienated  and  estranged, 

From  whom  it  sprung,  and  unto  whom 

Its  love  and  service  are  supremely  due, 

Has  now  become  the  willing  instrument 

Of  Satan's  malice  'gainst  the  King  of  Kings  ! 

"The  princes  of  the  world  knew  not,"  indeed, 

"  The  hidden  wisdom  of  the  sons  of  God ; " 

For  had  they  only  recognized  his  might, 

They  had  not  dared  to  crucify  their  Lord. 

Yet  scarcely  less  the  blackness  of  their  guilt, 

They  not  the  less  had  hated  truth  divine, 

God's  holy  law,  his  wise  and  just  decrees. 

And  righteous  judgments  'gainst  uncancelled  sin. 

They  clearly  saw  Christ's  holy  character, 

And  hated  that  which  so  condemned  their  own. 

Nor  character  alone  declared  his  truth  5 

"For  if  I  had  not  done,"  our  Lord  declared, 

"Among  them,  works  which  no  man  else  had  done, 

They  had  not  sinned,  but  now  they  have  both  seen 

And  hated  me,  yea,  and  my  Father  too." 

Behold  the  condemnation  of  the  world! 

I^ot  Christ,  not  Christ  is  judged  before  high  Heaven  ! 

Themselves  have  men  condemned,  by  word  and  deed. 

Their  condescending  King,  in  human  form. 

In  all  his  moral  excellence  an-ayed, 

Because  he  lays  his  threatening  thunders  by, 

Is  now  by  Israelite,  and  i^agan  scorned, — 


352  Ih'onopsis. 

By  priest  and  ])eople,  goveruor,  and  king. 

Behold  the  robe  and  crown  which  spealc  their shanie, 

Tlieir  hatred  and  rejection  of  their  King! 

"  We  will  not  have  this  man  to  reign  o'er  ns." 


Alas!    How^  different  now  jon  going  forth 
From  that  triumphal  entry  four  days  since ! 
Eejoiciug  multitudes,  with  thrilling  hope, 
Eager  to  greet  their  longed-for  earthly  king, 
With  palms  and  garments  strewed  his  upward  Avay, 
And  shouting  loud,  as  with  one  mighty  voice. 
With  glad  hosannas  rent  the  ambient  air. 

"Joy  to  the  Son  of  David!     Blest  be  he 
That  cometh  in  tlie  name  of  God,  the  Lord ! " 

Oil,  ignominious  change !     Behold  him  now, 

A  prisoner  led  by  hostile  soldiery, 

A  hooting  rabble  following  at  his  heels. 

Down  through  the  narrow  street  they  make  their 

way, 
The  noble  captive  staggering  'neath  his  cross. 
Anon  the  tidings  spread.    The  crowds  increase, 
Some  drawn  by  brutal  curiosity 
To  see  the  dying  throes  of  one  condemned 
To  perish  by  an  agonizing  death, 
Some  led  by  blindest  confidence  in  men, 
Deeming  the  judgment  of  their  priests  divine, 
Some  with  malicious  triumph  at  the  fall. 
Or  condemnation  of  a  man  wliose  life 


AVv'X'  Fifth—  The  Heii^Jii  of  Sin  and  Death.        353 

Had  so  condemned  their  own,  and  some  with  rage 
.'vml  disappointment  that  the  one  they  deemed 
Tlu'ii-  long-desired  Deliverer,  Priest,  and  King, 
Had  proved  a  helpless  lamb  before  his  foes. 

Others  were  led  by  truest  sympathy. 

And  deepest  sorrow  for  the  one  they  loved. 

Lo  !  Yonder  group  of  women,  standing,  wait, 

With  sad  expectancy,  the  coming  train. 

They  tremble  with  emotions  far  too  deep 

To  utter  forth  at  once,  ^rith  boisterous  grief. 

But  ah !  yon  saintly  matron !     See,  how  pale ! 

How  deadly  pale!    How  do  her  eyes  bespeak 

The  grief,  unspeakable  by  palsied  tongue, 

The  anguish  of  a  "  soul  a  sword  hath  pierced !" 

Her  Sou  !     More  dear  than  life,  or  soul  itself! 

Her  King!     Her  Christ !     Her  true  incarnate  God! 

Kevereneed  and  loved  with  all  her  si^iiit's  power, 

She  now  beholds  with  malefactors  led, 

Ariayed  in  shame,  and  bowed  beneath  his  cross ! 

Lo!  nature  yields !     She  falls!     She  faints  away ! 

And  kind  oblivion  for  a  moment  comes 

To  steal  the  anguish  of  a  grief,  so  great 

Her  very  heart  might  break  beneath  the  blow. 

Kind  hands  support  and  comfort  her!     And  oh, 

What  wings,  invisible  to  mortal  eyes. 

Are  those  which  speed  to  shield  her  stiieken  sonl! 

We  lift  our  eyes!     See !     O'er  this  barbarous  horde 

Of  sin  degraded  men,  urged  on  by  hell, 

The  embattled  hosts  of  Heaven !     In  bright  array 


354  Bionopsis. 

Tliey  stiiud,  prepuivd  to  keep  the  Father'' s  words, 
Which  Satan  once  had  quoted  to  deceive 
And  tempt  the  Saviour  to  presumptuous  sin. 
"For  I  will  give  mine  angels  charge  o'er  thee 
To  keep  thee, — with  their  hands  to  bear  thee  up, 
Lest  thou  shouldst  dash  thy  foot  against  a  stone/' 
No  stone  of  stumbling  trips  his  spirit's  march. 
No  faltering  faith,  wav'ring  of  love,  or  trust, 
Nor  anjT^  ji elding  to  one  sinful  thought 
Mars  the  triumphal  progress  of  the  Lord. 
Nor  e'en  does  nature  yield,  until  the  cry 
Of  triumph — "It  is  finished! — goes  to  Heaven. 

But  oh,  what  sorrow  follows  in  that  train ! 
Friends  now  attend,  who,  shaken  in  their  faitli, 
Show,  by  their  grief,  their  hearts,  at  least,  are  tine 
Manhood  has  not  entirely  died  from  earth  ; 
But  tender-hearted  woman  leads  the  way. 
Bewailing  and  lamenting  women  press 
Close  to  the  Lord  they  love.    And  now,  relieved 
By  Simon,  of  the  burden  of  his  cross, 
He  turns, 

"  Ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem 
Weep  not  for  me !    But  for  yourselves,  oh,  weep ! 
And  for  your  children  !" 

He  himself  has  wept, 
Bewailing  the  Jerusalem  he  loved. 
With  clear  foresight  of  tliis  most  dreadful  sin. 
And  that  tremendous  doom  this  sin  must  bring. 
E'en  now  he  bears  the  sorrow  in  his  heart. 


Pook  Fifth— The  Ilciglit  of  Sin  and  Death.        355 

Oiilsule  the  holy  city  stiinds  ;i  hill, 

Whose  name,  abhorrent,  speaks  of  things  unclean, 

Yet  destined  to  become,  of  all  the  earth, 

The  i)lace  most  consecrated  and  most  dear. 

E'en  Sinai,  Bethel,  or  Moriah  seem 

Less  holy,  blest,  or  dear  to  loving  hearts. 

What  depths  of  meaning  now  in  Calvary! 
Here  God  reveals  himself,  as  ne'er  before, 
In  forms  of  love,  astounding  our  poor  hearts.- 
From  Sinai  dreadful  holiness  shone  forth. 
Moses  himself,  before  his  glorious  God, 
Exclaimed,  "Exceedingly  I  fear,  and  quake." 
And  all  the  people  fled,  and  stood  far  oft". 
And  said,  ''If  God  speak  with  us  we  must  die." 
But  now,  unfolded,  lo!  amazing  love! 
Before  declared,  but  now  indeed  fulfilled, 
1  nviting  penitents  to  come  by  faith, 
And  trust  the  Lord,  e'en  suffeiing  death  for  us! 
Thus  glorious  holiness  no  more  alarms, 
But  seems  more  lovely  e'en  in  sinful  eyes. 
But  ah !  'tis  here  that  human  sin  appears 
More  dreadful,  far,  than  Sinai's  thunders  loud. 

Here  pause  the  blinded  crowds  to  end  the  work 

Of  malice,  dev'lish,  yet  most  impotent. 

Their  final  preparations  now  they  make. 

And,  lying  on  his  cross,  with  palms  outspread, 

The  gentle  Saviour  waits  the  dreadful  stroke ! 

And  even  while  they  crucify,  he  cries, 

"Father  forgive !    They  know  not  what  they  do  !" 


3  5 '5  Bionopsts. 

Oil,  heiglit  of  cruelty !    Witli  wicked  bauds 
They  pierce  his  hauds  and  feet! — 

Oh,  depth  of  mystery !    By  sure  decree 

Of  God's  eterual  wisdom  'twas  ordained, 

Ordained  the  free-will  offering  of  God, — 

The  very  time,  and  method  of  his  death ! 

Well  known  the  persons, — he  who  first  betrayed, 

He  who  condemned,  and  he  who  pierced  with  spear, 

And  all  who  join  to  swell  the  hellish  rout; 

Yea,  spoken  by  most  ancient  prophecy 

The  very  taunts  so  freely  uttered  now ; 

And  clearly  prophecied,  and  typified 

The  very  deeds, — the  casting  of  the  lots, 

The  parting  of  his  vesture  at  the  cross! 

But  ah !  not  God  compels,  nor  moves  their  wills ! 
'Tis  sin  and  Satan  only  lead  them  on 
Directly  counter  to  God's  righteous  law, 
Against  his  pleasure,  'gainst  his  loving  heart 
And  everj^  holy  influence  from  above. 
"Delivered  by  determinate  decree, 
And  clear  foreknowledge  of  Almighty  God, 
Most  wicked  hands  now  crucify  and  slay ' 
His  well  beloved  Son.     E'en  at  the  cross 
Most  hellish  malice,  most  malignant  hate. 
Derides  his  woe,  and  mocks  his  helplessness. 

His  foes  now  at  their  dying  victim  gloat. 
They  pass  before  his  cross,  and  wag  their  heads 


Book  Fifth — The  Height  of  Sin  and  Death.        357 

And  say, 

''If  thou  be  truly  Son  of  God, 
Come  down  now  from  the  cross.     "We  will  believe  " 

The  thieves  too  cast  the  same  into  his  teeth. 
But  one  repents,  and  says, 

"  Remember  me 
When  thou  dost  reach  thy  heavenly  kingdom,  Lord." 

How  great  the  change!    How  full  of  mystery! 
How  great  the  faith!     How  gracious  the  response 

''  This  day,  with  me,  thou  enterest  Paradise !  " 

But  haughty  priests,  and  scribes,  and  elders  mock,— 

"  In  God  he  trusts.     Let  him  deliver  now 

If  he  will  have  him  for  the  Son  of  God.'' 

"  Others  he  saved.     Himself  he  cannot  save. ' ' 

I^ature  at  last  revolts  !    Eebukes  the  crime! 
And  vails  the  noon -day  sun  with  darkness  deep! 
For  three  long  hours  the  dreadful  gloom  prevails. 

xVt  last,  with  dying  anguish,  Jesus  cries, 

"  Eloi !  Eloi !  la-mah  sabachthani  f  ' ' 

"  My  God!     Oh,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?" 

Again — '"  I  thirst." 

A  soldier  wets  his  lips. 
He  breathes  his  final  prayer, 

"Father," 

He  cries, 
"Into  thy  hands  my  spirit  I  commend." 


358  Bionopsis. 

Once  more, 

" 'Tis  finished," 

Bows  his  head — and  dies ! 
Oh,  awful  scene !    Does  sudden  judgment  fall? 
What  means  this  gloom?      The  earth's  convulsive 

throes 
Attest  her  horror  at  this  monstrous  crime  ! 
Most  fearful  portents!     Dreadful  mysteries! 
Earth  shudders !     Koeks  are  rent !     The  verj^  graves 
Give  forth  their  dead! — yet  not  to  joyous  life. 
Their  bodies,  in  their  cerements  of  death, 
Like  gliding  ghosts  appear.    Their  trembl i ng  friends, 
Awe  struck,  and  pale  with  fear,  see  once  loved  forms, 
Like  warning  si^ectres,  broken  of  their  rest! 

And  hark !     The  strange  report  from  lip  to  lip, 
''The  Temple  vail,"  which  hides  the  holy  i^lace. 
Is  rent  in  twain!  untouched  by  mortal  hands! 

The  Koman  captain  now  exclaims  at  last, 

"Truly,  this  was  indeed 

The  Son  of  God!" 

^' The  heart*     *     "*  desj)erat€ly  wicked.-''     Jer.  xvii.  0. 
^^  Crucified  the  Lord  of  glory.  ^^     1  Cor.  ii.  8. 


PROEM. 

Grant  me  the  victory,  O  Lord ; 

For  victory  is  thine. 
Speak  thou  the  all-commanding  word, 

And  thine  is  also  mine. 

I  ask  a  triumph  more  sublime 
Than  warriors  e'er  could  win, 

O'er  all  the  vanities  of  time, 
O'er  Satan,  death,  and  sin. 

Poor  Alexander  Mept,  at  last, 

His  soul  unsatisfied  : — 
His  reign  and  triumph  quickly  past, 

Vanquished,  in  shame  he  died. 

His  conquest  of  the  world  was  vain. 

His  soul  was  still  it's  slave. 
"What  profit  all  the  world  to  gain, 

And  fail  the  soul  to  save? " 

But  Christ  subdued  beneath  his  feet 

The  last  of  all  his  foes. 
Thou,  Father,  owned  his  work  complete, 

When,  conquering  death,  He  rose. 

O  God,  may  this  great  joy  be  mine 

To  triumph  like  my  Lord  ;— 
With  Him,  in  thy  bright  smiles  to  shine, 

And  share  his  blest  award. 

361 


362  Bionopsis. 

This  victory  o'ercomes  the  world, 
E'en  faith,  my  Lord,  in  Thee, 

Who  Satan  from  his  throne  hast  hurled, 
And  made  believers  free. 

The  unbelievers  still  may  cling 
To  darkness,  doubt,  and  sin ; — 

His  choice  can  no  true  comfort  bring, 
Nor  make  him  pure  within. 

But  whoso  trusts  thy  word  of  truth, 
And  makes  thy  will  his  choice ; 

His  soul  shall  have  perpetual  youth, 
And  o'er  all  foos  rejoice. 


BOOK  SIXTH. 

The  Sabbath  passed,  the  day  of  holy  rest, 
Which  brings  rich  benedictions  on  its  friends. 
They  trnly  '"call  the  Sabbath  a  delight/'' 
When  privileged  to  turn  from  earthly  care, 
And  hold  communion  sweet  with  God  and  Heaven. 

But  ah !     This  Sabbath,  unlike  all  the  rest, 
Could  bring  no  peace  to  sinners  or  to  saints, — 
''  Xo  peace  is  to  the  wicked,  saith  my  God," 
How  could  pure  heavenly  peace  descend  on  those 
Whose  guilty  spirits  bore  more  damning  stains, 
Than  Abel's  blood,  e'en  of  their  murdered  Lord? 

All  day  a  shadow  rested  on  the  courts 

Of  God's  most  holy  Temple,  dark  and  deep, 

A  shadow  of  an  awful  mystery. 

That  filled  the  very  souls  of  men  with  gloom! 

Deepest  and  darkest  'twas  in  hearts  of  priests ! 

The  sacred  vail  that  hid  the  Holj^  Place 

Hung,  as  on  yesterday,  when  rent  in  twain 

From  top  to  bottom,  yet  without  a  hand! 

The  sacred  mysteries  were  thus  unvailed 

To  common  eyes.     But  who  could  understand 

The  mystery  beneath  this  awful  portent  vailed? 

It  pressed  their  hearts  as  with  a  dreadful  load. 

Mechanically  they  fulfilled  the  rites. 

The  sacred  rites  that  spoke  of  peace  with  Heaven, 

Through  sacrificial  blood !    But  ah !  the  blood 


364  Bionopsis. 

Whieli  rested  on  their  souls  could  bring  no  peace, 
Though  ''speaking  better  things  than  Abel's  blood/' 
To  all  receiving  it  in  faith  and  love. 
The  One  Great  Sacrifice,  that  saves  from  sin, 
Brought  deeper  doom  upon  their  guilty  souls ! 

E'en  to  the  souls  of  those  who  loved  the  Lord 
Peace  was  a  stranger  all  that  woful  day. 
Their  hearts  dwelt  in  the  sepulchre  with  him 
"  A  high  day,"  hitherto,  that  day  had  been. 
That  followed  close  upon  their  paschal  feast, 
A  day  of  thankfulness  and  holy  joy, 
But  now,  though  *'  Christ,  their  passover,  was  slain, '^ 
They   had   not  learned   how  life  sprijigs  from  his 
death. 

This  last  sad  Sabbath  of  the  ancient  law 
Into  the  Gospel  Sabbath  now  dissolves, — 
Day  of  new  hope  and  overflowing  joy, 
And  revelations  rich  of  grace  divine! 

Our  M'aking  thoughts  turn  to  The  Crucified ! 

Thus  may  they  ever  turn,  with  deepest  love. 

And  may  the  glad  surprise  of  that  blest  day 

Be  oft  repeated  in  believer's  hearts. 

"  To  them  that  look  for  Him  He  will  appear." 

So  let  us  look !     Not  with  a  hasty  glance 

Diverted  from  some  all-absorbing  care, 

But  yielding  all  our  fondest  thoughts  to  Him. 

Oh,  may  his  love  glow  warmest  in  our  hearts, 

And  may  our  lives  be  "  liid  with  Christ  in  God." 


Book  Sixth — Victory  oi'cr  Death.  365 

O  glorious  day  !     Day  oi'  celestial  joy, 

Outshining  all  tlie  days  of  Earth's  sad  life ! 

O  morn  of  heavenly  rapture!     Earth  itself 

Smiles  with  the  light,  and  peace,  and  bliss  of  Heaven ! 

O  Earth,  lift  up  thine  eyes,  so  dim  with  tears, 

Familiar  long  with  sorrow,  sin,  and  death. 

Xow  let  thy  throbbing  heart  buist  forth  with  joy  ! 

Sing  out  the  praise  of  thy  triumphant  friend  ! 

Let  Heaven  rejoice  !     Ye  angels,  tune  your  hari)S ! 

Ye  hari)s,  that  long,  Avith  plaintive  sweetness  showed 

The  sorrows  deep  of  God's  Beloved  Son, 

A  mourning  pilgrim  through  the  shades  of  death, 

Cast  off  your  weeds !    Tune  all  your  notes  afresh, 

To  most  exultant,  glad,  triumphant  strains  ! 

O  glorious  Conquerer  of  sin  and  deatli. 

All  hail !     Thy  strong  right  hand,  thy  holy  arm 

Alone  hath  gotten  thee  the  victory! 

All  hail !     For  thou  hast  triumphed  gloriously ! 

Sin  could  not  touch  Thee !     Satan  could  not  quench 

The  heavenly  fire  of  i^ure  and  holj^  love. 

That  burned  serene,  amid  the  whirlwind  rage 

Of  foul  ingratitude,  and  hellish  hate ! 

Xor  could  dark  death  aifright  or  hold  Thee  bound! 

''CaiJtivity  itself  is  caj^tive  led !" 

Burst  are  the  bars  of  death !  the  triple  bars, 

Forever  prisoning  Love  and  Hope  with  life ! 

Henceforth  fair  Ho^^e  sings  sweetest  o'er  the  tomb! 

Her  dearest  treasures  lie  bej^ond  its  dooi-s ! 

Blest ''  immortality  is  brought  to  light!" 

And  love  no  more  in  hopeless  anguish  sinks, 


366  Bionopsis. 

Despairing,  midst  the  charnel  dust,  to  die, 

Nor  turns  to  starve  on  empty  memories. 

With  rapture  she  uplifts  her  yearning  lieart. 

To  yon  bright  world  w  here  Christ  has  led  the  way. 

Strangely  the  Lord's  disciples  all  forgot 

His  wondi'ous  promise  for  this  third  day  given. 

But  Heaven,  more  mindful,  at  th'  appointed  hour, 

Sends  forth  an  angel  to  unbar  the  door 

Of  gloomy  death,  before  his  mighty  Lord, 

And  Christ,  the  Lord,  stronger  than  death  itself, 

Shakes  off  his  chains! 

An  earthquake's  dreadful  shock 
Denotes  the  deed.     The  angel  now  descends. 
The  stone  which  closed  the  door,  guarded  and  sealed, 
He  rolls  away !     Behold  him  sitting  there ! 
"His  face  like  lightning !  raiment  white  as  snow ! 
The  keepers  tremble,  falling  down  as  dead ! 
And  Christ  comes  forth !  but  lingers  near  the  spot, 
To  wait  and  greet  the  children  of  his  love. 

At  earliest  dawn,  with  fond  impatient  haste, 

The  women  seek  the  holy  sepulchre. 

And  bring  sweet  spice  to  embalm  the  sacred  dead. 

But  sweeter  spices  filled  their  tender  hearts. 

Of  pure  and  heavenly  love,  whose  fragrance  rose, 

As  holy  incense  to  the  courts  above. 

'Tis  Mary  Magdalene,  "first  of  all, 

"  Wliile  yet  'tis  dark,"  who  hastens  to  the  tomb. 

"Mucli  had  she  been  forgiven,  and  much  she  loved." 


Book  Sixth — Victory  over  Death.  367 

Astonished  she  beholds  the  open  tomb! 
The  broken  seal !  the  great  stone  rolled  away  ! 
And,  turning  quick,  she  flies,  with  trembling  liaste, 
To  tell,  with  deepening  grief,  the  startling  news, 
That  e'en  the  grave  is  rifled  of  its  dead  ! 

Peter  and  John,  at  once,  with  burning  hearts, 
Fly  to  the  sepulchre  to  learn  the  truth. 
They  find  it  empty.     But  the  linen  clothes 
Remain,  with  napkin,  wrapped  each  by  itself. 
What  can  it  mean  ?     Deep  wondering  they  depart. 
Bat  Mary  stands  without  the  tomb,  and  weeps. 
Stooping,  at  length,  she  looks  within.    And  lo ! 
Two  wiiite  robed  angels  sit  where  Christ  has  lain ! 

"Woman,  why  weepest  thou?"  say  they. 

"  Because  " 
Says  she  (more  full  of  this  new  bitter  grief 
Than  terror), 

"They  have  ta'en  away  my  Lord; 
And  where  they  may  have  laid  Him  I  know  not." 

Ah !     Desolate  indeed  each  loving  heart 
Whose  Lord  is  hidden  thus.     But  unbelief 
Would  gladly  hide  him,  gladly  seal  his  tomb, 
So  that  he  ne'er  might  rise,  gladly  deny 
The  Lord  when  "  risen  indeed,  yea,  e'en  forbid 
Each  christian  hope,  so  hiding  its  own  guilt. 

Turning,  she  sees  her  Lord,  but  knows  him  not. 
And  Jesus  asks, 

"Woman,  why  Meepest  thou?" 


368  Bionopsis. 

She  answers, 

"Sir,  if  thou  hast  boine  him  hence, 
Oh,  tell  me  whei-e.  I'll  take  Him  then  away." 
''Mary!" 

Saith  he.     And  now  she  knows  her  Lor<i  : 
Oh,  what  a  Hash  of  joy,  like  sudden  light 
Upon  the  deepest  gloom,  thrills  all  her  soul 
Turning  again, 

"Eabboni!"  loud  she  cries. 
Ready  to  fall  and  clasp  him  by  the  feet. 
But  he  forbids,  commanding, 

"Touch  me  not." 
"Not  yet  ascended,"  there  would  still  be  time 
To  give  a  loving  welcome  e'er  he  went. 
She  first  should  comfort  those  who  "mourned  nii<i 

w  ept. ' ' 
Scarce  had  she  gone,  when  other  women  came, 
Still  questioning  one  another  "who  should  roll 
The  mighty  stone  away?" 

Butlo!  'tis  done! 
Those  sorrowing   souls  who  seek  their  Lord  witli 

fear, — 
The  Lord  to  them  once  dead,  but  now  desired, — 
Oft  dread  a  barrier  far  beyond  their  strength, 
But  when  they  come,  the  stone  is  rolled  away  ! 
Tliey  enter  in,  but  find  an  empty  tomb  ! 
Astonished  and  perplexed  they  stand,  when,  lo/ 
Two  angels,  clothed  in  shining  robes,  appear  ! 
They  bow  in  fear,  their  faces  to  the  ground. 
The  ang<'ls  utter  words  of  joy  and  hope. 


Book  Sixth — I'ictory  07>er  Death.  369 

"Why  do  ye  seek  the  living  'mong  the  dead? 

He  is  not  here,  but  risen  as  he  said. 

Come  see  the  place  viiere  our  dear  Lord  hath  lain. 

He  goes  before  you  into  Galilee. 

There  shall  ye  see  him,  as  he  said  to  you." 

Yet  scarcelj-  ha\'e  they  left  the  sepulchre, 
Running  amazed,  tilled  full  of  fear  and  joy, 
With  trembling  feet,  and  palpitating  hearts, 
When  lo!     The  Lord  Himself  stands  in  the  way! 

"AUhail!" 

He  cries.     But  prostrate  at  his  feet 
They  fall  all  terrified. 

'•Be  not  afraid,'' 
He  says.     And  suffers  them  to  clasp  his  feet. 

"  Tell  ye  my  brethren, — go  to  Galilee. 
There  shall  they  see  nie.'' 

Only  glimpses  here, 
A  little  while,  are  granted  to  a  few. 
In  Galilee,  his  loved  and  chosen  home, 
He  purposed  for  a  season  to  sojourn, 
And  show  himself  e'en  to  the  multitude. 

Yet  even  here,  upon  this  very  day, 
A  seeming  stranger,  he  appears  to  two 
Travelling  afoot;  and,  at  the  journey's  close, 
Reveals  himself  a  moment,  and  is  gone. 

They  hasten  back  to  tell  the  wondrous  news. 
The  others  al.so  tell  that  Simon  too 


yjo  Bionopsix. 

Hath   seen   the  Lord!     And  then  with  wondering 

hearts 
They  all  recline  to  take  their  evening  meal. 
When,  lo!  before  them  all,  distinct  and  clear. 
The  Lord  appears  to  their  astonished  eyes  ! 
They  recognize  his  dear  familiar  form, 
And  face,  so  full  of  gentle  dignity, — 
His  brow  so  badl^'  scarred  by  cruel  thorns ! 
And  yet  they  look  with  fear,  and  painful  doubt. 
He  spreads  his  hands!     Behold!     The  deep   red 

scars ! 
He  speaks !     How  sweetly ! 

"  Peace  be  nnto  you ! " 
Yet  now,  convinced  that  no  mere  vision  vague, 
But  that  a  living  spirit  hath  appeared, 
Still  more  affrighted,  yea,  e'en  terrified, 
They  view,  with  trembling,  their  beloved  Lord. 

"Why  are  ye  troubled?    Why  do  thoughts  arise? 
Behold  my  hands  and  feet,  that  it  is  I J 
Yea,  handle  me  and  see!     For  flesh  and  bones 
No  spirit  liath,  such  as  ye  see  me  have.'' 

At  this  they  crowd  around  their  cherished  Lord, 
And  trembling  rapture  follows  quivering  fear. 
They  scarcely  now  believe  for  very  joy ! 
Death's  dread  realities,  burnt  in  their  souls, 
Make  this  blest  vision  seem  a  happy  dream. 

To  make  assurance  sure  and  chase  their  doubts, 
He  asks  them, 


Book  Sixth — Victory  over  Death.  371 

"Children,  have  ye  any  meati" 
They  turn  them  now  to  their  forgotten  board, 
And  bring  him  thence  broiled  fish  and  houej'  comb. 
Lo  !    He  participates  before  them  all ! 

Thus,  by  the  most  "  indisputable  proofs," 

He  shows  himself  as  truly  now  alive, 

As,  late,  they  saw  him  pierced,  and  cold  in  death. 

Yet  proofs  beyond  all  reasonable  doubt, 
Those  who  deny  his  truth  as  Son  of  God, 
And  hate  the  humbling  doctrines  of  His  cross, 
AVill  still  resist,  and  seek  to  break  their  force. 
Behold  the  men,  whose  hate  remembered  m  ell, 
And  understood  his  promise  to  rebuild, 
Within  three  days,  the  temple  they  destroyed. 
How  carefully  their  zeal  made  sure  his  tomb. 
With  ponderous  stone,  and  seal  and  Roman  guard ! 
Yet  with  the  witness  sure  of  such  a  band, 
Of  Christ's  triumphant  vict'ry  over  death. 
Incredulous,  they  still  pursue  their  course. 
And  bribe  the  soldiers  to  report  a  lie ! 

But  dost  thou  cry, 

"Incredible,  such  guilt!" 
l^ay,  so,  in  every  age,  ungodly  men, 
Who  hate  the  holy  x)recepts  of  their  God, 
Unwilling  to  receive  the  truth  in  Christ, 
Reject  the  clearest,  strongest  evidence. 
But  grossest  falsehoods  circulate  and  trust ! 


372  Bioiiopsis. 

We  bless  tlie  Lord,  whose  thougliirul  care  hath  laid 
Foundation  strong  on  which  our  faith  may  rest, 
To  build,  with  confidence,  immortal  hope  ! 
As  islands  in  tlie  Southern  Seas  are  reared. 
Through  lengthening  ages,  from  the  lowest  depths, 
Emerging  finally  to  light  and  air. 
So  these  foundations  for  our  dearest  faith. 
Through  depths  profound,  of  darkest  mystery, 
Of  patient  sorrow,  suffering,  toil,  and  shame, 
Eose  to  the  light  of  this  triumphant  day ! 

Blest  day !     Memorial  sure,  from  age  to  age, 

Of  resurrection  tiiumph  of  our  Lord, 

And  finished  work,  complete  in  righteousness  ! 

"God  blessed  the  Sabbath  Day,  and  hallowed  it," 
"When  first  creation's  mighty  work  was  done, 
So,  this  day,  resting  from  his  greater  work. 
By  which  lie  made  atonement  for  our  race, 
By  bearing  sorrow,  suffering,  sin,  and  death, 
Christ,  by  his  resurrection,  blesses  it 
With  richer  blessings  e'en  than  those  of  yore. 

No  new  enactments  need  his  loving  friends 
To  sanctify  the  day  (and  none  could  make 
Unwilling  servants  keep  it  as  they  ought)  ; 
But  ne'er  could  words  or  mere  enactments  give 
Such  preciousness,  and  happy  sacredness 
To  any  day,  as  crown  tliis  Day  of  days ! 
Christ  sanctified  the  day  by  his  own  act, 
And  by  example  his  apostles  showed 
His  holy  will,  in  honoring  this  day. 


Book  Sixth — I'iclory  over  Death.  373 

'Tis  called  by  His  own  name,  and  set  apart 

As  His  own  day.     His  loving  friends  rejoice 

To  keep  it  holy  to  their  risen  Lord. 

But  those  who  serve  Hiin  not,  in  love  and  faith. 

Must  still  be  bound  by  law,  of  God  or  man. 

'Tis  clearly  shown  tliat  human  nature  needs 

One  full  day's  rest  in  seven,  from  worldliness; 

And  he  who  rests  not  wrongs  his  fellow  men. 

Endangering  a  privilege  so  dear, 

While,  even  more,  he  wrongeth  his  own  soul. 

Some,  by  the  letter,  more  than  spirit,  bound, 
Are  bound  in  spirit  by  the  ordinal. 
But  where  'tis  said  God  "  blessed  the  Sabbath  Day  '' 
"We  find  a  word  far  broader  than  ''the  seventh." 

Alas!    If  that  alone  were  sacred  time! 
Who  could  be  sure  which  were  the  holy  day  ? 
The  Gospel  teaches  greater  liberty 
And  Jesus  bids  us 

"Judge  ye  what  is  right." 
But  holy  liberty  (not  license  loose, 
To  mere  ungodly  pleasure)  now  is  ours. 
And  he  who  keeps  "the  Lord's  Day  "  holy  now, 
Fulfills  the  spirit  of  the  ancient  law. 
Yea,  e'en  the  letter  too  he  well  fulfills ; 
For  this  blest  Sabbath  is  the  jubilee! 
The  glory  of  the  ancient  Sabbath  fades 
Into  this  greater  glory.     One  day  now 
Serves  as  memorial  of  the  works  of  God, 
And  points  to  greater  glories  yet  to  come. 


374  Bionopsis. 

Thus  we  remember  now  the  Sabbath  day 
To  keep  it  holy  after  week  of  toil, 
Anticipating  too,  with  speechless  joy 
The  resurrection  and  the  endless  rest! 

Six  happy  weeks  Christ  lingered  here  on  earth, 

To  fill  the  hearts  of  those  who  knew  his  love 

"With  joy  unspeakable,  of  glory  full." 

Oh,  who  can  sound  the  depths  of  wondering  love, 

And  reverence  most  profound,  and  pure  delight 

That  opened  in  their  raptured  souls  the  while? 

For  now  no  clouds  of  ignorance  remained. 

Or  mists  of  doubt,  to  hide  their  Saviour's  ftice. 

They  knew  him  surely  then  as  all  divine. 

Earth  seemed  no  longer  common  earth  to  them, 
A  place  of  common  business,  hopes,  or  joys. 
It  rather  seemed  their  soul's  sweet  trysting-place, 
Where  they  might  meet  their  well-beloved  Lord ; 
And  pledge  their  hearts,  in  holy  happy  love. 
And,  for  a  season  hold  communion  sweet, 
And  learn  his  will  to  do  while  lingering  here, 
Till  summoned  home,  in  brighter  realms  above, 
To  hold  the  marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb. 
E'en  the  reproach  of  love  was  sweeter  far, 
Than  absence,  fickleness,  or  cold  reserve. 

Thus  Peter  found,  though  grieved,  and  justly  shamed, 
When  Christ  the  third  time  asked  him  "  Lov'st  thou 

meV 
'Twas  still  his  joy  that  Jesus  sought  his  love. 


luu'k  Sixth— Victory  cvrr  Death.  375 

Uu worthy  tbougli  he  felt  that  love  to  be ; 
And  Christ  himself  still  prized  poor  Peter's  love, 
And    deemed  it,    though   in   weakness  thrice  dis- 
graced, 
Far  better  than  the  cold  indifference 
Of  those  who  loved  the  world,  nor  prized  his  love. 
Thrice  re-affirmed,  it  grew,  henceforth,  in  strength, 
And  flamed,  in  triumph,  on  the  cross  at  last! 


At  length  the  Lord  his  great  commission  gave. 
The  work  he  wished  his  friends  henceforth  to  do. 
And  said, 

"iVbit;  go  ye  forth  to  all  the  icorld, 
And  preach  my  gospel  unto  all  mankind.'''' 

Oh,  blessed  M^ork !    'Tis  thus  that  Christ  conveys 
To  souls  yet  lost  in  ignorance  and  sin. 
The  wondrous  blessings  purchased  by  his  death. 
The  treasures  of  his  grace  he  now  commits 
To  "  earthen  vessels,' '  that  the  excellence 
Of  power  might  be  of  God  and  not  of  us." 
He  makes  us  all  "co-laborers  with  him," 
In  this  blest  work  to  save  our  fellow  men. 

Oh,  noble  work  I    It  dignifies  our  lives  ! 

'Tis  worth  our  living !     Worth  our  dying  too ! 

'Tis  blessed  to  redeem  the  lives  of  men. 

From  dreadful  thraldom  'neath  the  powers  of  sin. 

To  ''  glorious  liberty  of  Sons  of  God," — 

To  ransom  souls  doomed  to  eternal  death, 


37<^  Bionopsis. 

To  make  them  heirs  of  life, — the  ^'- heirs  of  God 
And  e'en  joint  heirs  with  Jesus  Christ^'  our  Lord! 

Ye  who  have  felt  the  patriotic  thrill, 
Whose  hearts  have  leai)e(l  to  hear  the  trumpet  call 
That  summoned  you  to  arms  to  meet  the  foe, 
And  drive  the  invader  from  your  country's  soil, 
Oh,  list  a  nobler  call ! 

It  sounds  from  Heaven  ! 
It  calls  you  to  more  glorious,  blessed  work ! 
It  summons  you  to  save  your  fellow  men  ! 
Love  ye  your  country  !     Love  your  Saviou  r  too ! 
And  love  the  "better  country"  of  our  hopes  ! 
Flock  to  the  standard  of  the  "Prince  of  Peace," 
And  help  to  bear  his  glorious  banner  forth  !     • 
Our  foes  are  strong.     We  M'ould  not  hide  their  force. 
AVide  their  dominion!     Terrible  their  power  ! 
With  bittter  bondage  they  enslave  our  race ! 
*'We  wrestle  not  'gainst"  puny  ''flesh  and  blood." 
We  war  '"gainst  princiiialities  and  powers," 
'Gainst  wicked  spirits,  throned  in  places  high. 
But  mightier  for  is  our  triumphant  Prince, 
The  chosen  "Captain  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts!" 
Already  Victor,  over  Death,  and  Hell, 
He  leads  us  on  to  certain  victory ! 
God  speed  his  kingdom  !     May  its  bounds  extend 
To  Earth's  remotest  shores  !     May  every  knee 
Soon  bow  with  reverence  at  his  holy  name, 
"Of  things  in   Heaven,  on   Earth,  and   'neath  the 

Earth, 
And  every  tongue  confess  that  He  is  Lord, 


Book  Sixth — Victory  o^'cr  Death.  377 

E'eu  to  the  glory  of  our  Father,  God ! " 

Oh,  niiglity  work  !     Xanght  but  a  power  divine, 

Could  give  it  good  success  in  sinful  hearts, 

Could  dissipate  the  dreadful  midnight  gloom 

Of  Satan's  stolen  empire  o'er  the  Earth, 

And  new  create  a  world  so  dead  in  sins ! 

'Twas  in  the  reign  of  black  chaotic  night, 

The  Spirit,  brooding  o'er  the  empty  deej) 

Evoked  the  universe  from  formless  void. 

First  light  responded  to  the  mighty  voice. 

And  then  creation  rose,  so  wondrous  fair! 

Oh,  fairer,  far,  than  Venus  from  the  foam  ! 

But  clearer  yet  the  light  of  Gospel  truth 

Shines  through  the  deep  and  hopeless  gloom  of  guilt- 

And  fairer  still  the  new  creation  springs 

E'en  from  the  dust  of  spiritual  death! 

God's  Spirit  only  can  perform  the  work. 
The  sons  of  men,  like  diy  and  scattered  bones, 
Are  destitute  of  all  redemptive  power. 
And  e'en  the  meaning  of  true  life  know  not. 
Our  iirayer  must  be, 

"  Come  from  the  skies,  O  Breath, 
And  breathe  upon  these  slain  that  they  may  live!'' 

God's  Word  alone  can  bring  true  life  to  light. 
Where  else  could  hope  arise  for  sinful  men"? 
The  \\\)'&  of  Nature,  sealed  by  God's  own  curse, 
Xow  mute  henceforth,  no  word  of  promise  bieathe. 
The  sons  of  men,  born  to  rejoice  in  God, 


378  Bionopsis. 

And  recognize  His  voice,  through  all  His  works 

Disabled  now  by  sin  and  unbelief, 

Can  scarce  discern  true  Deity  itself. 

Their  very  sense  and  manhood  they  degrade. 

Set  in  a  godlike  place  above  the  beasts, 

They  fall  below,  make  beasts  and  stones  their  gods, 

And  bow  to  idols  formed  by  their  own  hands! 

Or,  vainly  puffed  by  false  philosophy, 

They  fondly  fancy  and  would  fain  believe 

Blind  Nature,  without  God,  evolved  herself ! 

But  still  men  question, 

"  Why  does  God  not  speak 
In  more  familiar,  and  convincing  tones! 
For  then,"  say  they,  "we  would  and  must  believe." 

So  said  the  Jews.    "Let  him  but  now  come  down 
From  yonder  cross,  and  then  we  will  believe." 

Vain  words !     For,  though  he  condescended  not 

To  unbelief,  still  more  triumphant  proof 

He  gave  to  holy  faith.    O'er  death  itself 

He  showed  his  power,  and  life  beyond  the  tomb! 

And  yet  his  foes  invented  then  a  lie 
To  hide  the  truth. 

And  now  dost  thou  still  ask 
Why  God  doth  not  still  show  himself  to  men, 
Compelling  all  men  to  receive  his  words ! 
The  answer,  plain,  is, 

"  JftfH'.s  apostasy." 


Book  Sixth —  Victory  o',u-r  Death.  379 

God  could  not  put  this  honor  on  his  foes, 
And  bless  them  with  a  filial  privilege, 
Were  men  like  angels,  pure  from  inborn  sin, 
This  privilege  and  joy  would  still  be  theirs, 
To  stand  in  God's  bright  presence,  and  to  hear, 
As  in  the  garden  once,  his  charming  voice. 
Such  privilege  is,  now.  not  e'en  desired! 
For  now  men's  hearts  are  wedded  to  the  world. 
To  them  the  creature  all;  Creator  naught! 

But,  in  his  love,  and  condescending  grace, 
"  God,  dwelling  in  the  high  and  holy  place," 
"Eeveals  himself  to  huinl)le,  contrite  hearts;'' 
"To  them  that  look  for  him  he  will  appear;" 
''Those  who  obey  will  know  his  doctrine  true;" 
"God's  secret  is  with  them  that  fear  the  Lord;" 
"The  wise  shall  understand ;"  "the  pure  in  heart 
Shall  see  the  Lord ; "  and  those  are  truly  blest 
WTio  ''meditate  his  word,  both  day  and  night." 

We  "thank  thee.  Father,  Lord  of  heaven,  and  earth, 
That  thou  hast  hid  these  things  from  worldly  wise 
And  prudent  men,  reyealing  them  to  babes." 

Only  to  those  who  seek  the  Lord  in  truth. 

He  shows  his  grace  and  makes  liis  beauty  known. 

Our  Mighty  Maker  condescendeth  not 

To  curiosity,  or  stubborn  pride. 

Or  proud  presumption  of  rebellious  minds. 

Wise,  in  their  own  conceit,  above  their  God. 

But  oh,  how  graciously  he  still  invites, 


380  Bionopsis. 

*'Come  unto  me!    Ye  heavy  laden,  come  ! 
Learn  ye  of  me.    Your  souls  shall  then  find  rest." 
"Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive !    Seek  !  ye  shall  find  ; 
Knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you." 

O  thou  who  scorn'st  the  wisdom  given  to  faith, 
Which  looks  most  wisely  at  the  things  unseen, 
"Why  boast,  so  loftily,  of  reason's  power? 
"  Canst  thou,  by  thine  own  searching,  find  out  God?" 
Or  canst  thou  bring  the  Almighty  to  thy  terms'? 
"Wilt  thou  then  blame  thy  Maker?  charge  neglect 
Or  lack  of  wisdom  in  withholding  truth? 
Search  thine  own  conscience !    Must  thou  not  con- 
fess 
Thou  hast  not  yet  obeyed  the  truth,  most  plain, 
Commanding  love  supreme  to  God  himself? 
How  then  canst  thou  complain  he  has  not  made 
The  truth  more  plain?   or  made  thee  learu  more 

truth 
E'en  now,  by  what  is  known,  thou'rt  self- condemned  1 

Would    greater  knowledge  serve  thee,  more  than 

faith? 
Ah,  not  mere  human  knowledge  pleases  God, 
But  meek  submission  to  his  holy  will ! 
And  faith  from  which  all  true  obedience  springs. 
Faith  is  the  essence  of  obedience, 
For  faith's  true  essence  is  the  choice  of  God, 
And  choice  of  all  the  soul's  chief  good  in  Him. 
A  wilful  unbelief  enthrones  self-will, 
And  sin,  and  folly! — dreadful  trinity 


Book  Sixth — Victory  ova   Death.  38 

That  bar  out  every  ray  of  saving  truth, 

Aud  bind  the  sou],  that  else  might  seeli:  its  God! 

How  else  can  we  approach  liini  but  by  faith  ? 
Or  God  impart  himself  to  human  souls? 
'Tis  clear  that  God  "  reveals  himself  to  faith," 
And  faith  alone  receives  his  will  revealed. 
Faith  is  the  highest  wisdom  of  the  soul. 
The  man  of  genius  maj'  be  most  a  knave, 
A.nd  most  a  fool,  in  fighting  'gainst  his  God; 
The  most  unlettered  man,  both  saiut  and  sage. 

God's  holy  wisdom  now  appears  in  this, 

That  "  when  the  world  by  wisdom  knew  uot  God, 

(Xot  e'en  his  oneness  and  omnipotence; 

Although  "•  the  things  invisible  of  him 

Are  clearlj'  seen,"  by  signs  most  manifest), 

It  pleased  him  "by  the  preaching  of  his  word 

To  save  those  that  believe."' 

Proud  unbelief 
May  scorn  the  method,  and  despise  the  Word, 
And  call  it  "foolishness,"  devoid  of  power. 
Irs  power  is  seen,  e'en  now,  in  souls  redeemed, 
In  minds  enlightened,  hearts  made  glad  with  hope, 
And  "purified  by  faith,'*  and  warmed  with  love, 
In  passions  fierce  subdued,  in  fears  dispelled. 
In  tempests  of  the  soul  made  calm  in  peace, 
In  lives  reformed,  and  changed,  most  wondiously. 
From  curses,  into  blessings  to  mankind. 
In  feet  turned  upward  from  the  do^^lward  way. 
And  mouths,  once  dumb,  or  filled  with  foulest  sin. 


382  Bionopsis. 

Now  sweetly,  purely,  tuned  to  praise  the  Lord. 
Nay  more.     Beyond  the  circle  thus  most  blest, 
Are  widening  circles,  where  its  power  appears. 
Nations  its  purifying  influence  feel. 
Crime  learns  "to  hide  its  foul  diminished  head." 
E'en  worldly  blessings  come  with  christian  faith, 
And  worldly  men,  for  streams  of  mercy  here. 
Have  cause  to  praise  the  Gospel  of  our  Lord. 

But  more  than  all  "  It  is  the  Power  of  God  " 
To  full  salvation,  and  eternal  life ! 

Behold  we  now  the  last  great  scene  of  all. 

Upon  the  Mount  of  Olives  Jesus  stands, 

To  bid  the  last  farewell  to  loving  friends, 

And  rise,  triumphant,  to  his  heavenly  home. 

Important  moment !    Joy  and  grief  combine 

In  every  loving  heart, — divinest  joy, 

To  see  and  share  a  tiiumph  so  sublime, 

Such  vict'ry  o'er  the  last  great  enemy. 

And  glad  translation  to  the  bliss  of  heaven, — 

But  also  grief,  a  desolating  grief, 

That  made  the  Earth  seem  empty,  and  forlorn ! 

Ah !     What  can  fill  the  dreadful  aching  void, 

When  he  is  gone  who  once  has  filled  our  hearts, — 

Yea,  filled  our  lives,  with  light,  and  joy,  and  love"? 

But,  turning  from  the  grief  of  earthly  friends, 
He  rises  to  receive  his  welcome  home  ! 


Boo/c  Sixth — I'ictory  OTcr  Death.  383 

Ob,  glad  triiimi)liant  welcome,  lioine  to  God  ! 
Such  triumph  uever  conqueror  won  on  Earth, 
Such  joy,  perchance,  has  uever  reigned  in  Heaven ! 

O  Earth !     What  strange  indifference  is  thine ! 
Unconscious  of  his  advent,  even  now 
Thou  neither  know'st,  nor  carest  where  he  goes! 
How  couldst  thou  share  his  triumph?    Thou  didst 

share 
The  awful  guilt  of  compassing  his  death ! 
Ah!     Had  some  hero  of  thine  own  returned, 
All  stained  with  blood  of  slaughtered  fellow-men, 
To  claim,  at  home,  his  triumph  and  his  crown. 
What  pomp  and  splendor !  what  exultant  noise 
Of  gathering  multitudes,  elate,  and  proud, 
Curious  the  mighty  hero  to  behold, 
Would  hail  the  sight  of  his  triumphal  car! 
And  yet  what  emptiness  of  hollow  sounds ! 
Of  false  professions,  weak,  and  worthless  praise! 

But  Christ  receives  a  triumph  greater  far 
Than  men  could  give,  with  all  their  pomp  and  noise! 
For  oh,  what  gladness  fills  the  hosts  of  Heaven, 
To  hear  the  news  of  their  dear  Lord's  return! 

And  oh,  what  rapture  fills  the  soul  of  Christ, 
As  fades  the  scene  of  all  his  shame  .and  woe, 
And  Heaven's  bright  glories  dawn  upon  his  view! 
Clouds  upon  clouds  fill  all  the  vast  expanse, 
From  zenith  unto  nadir.  East,  and  West. 
But  bureting  through,  lo !  yon  celestial  light, 


384  Bionopxis. 

A  perfect  flood  of  i-adiance,  i)ouiiiig  forth 
As  from  the  vei'y  throue  of  light  and  bliss. 

Nor  solitary  grandeur  awes  the  soul  ; 

For  life,  as  well  as  light  tills  all  the  scene ! 

Oh,  yes!     The  very  highest  forms  of  life, — 

Not  like  the  swarming,  crawling  life  of  Earth, 

So  full  of  venom,  selfishness,  and  sin ; 

But  life  celestial,  worthy  of  the  name, 

All  pure  and  lovely,  as  the  azure  sky. 

And  glowing  warm  with  tije  of  holy  love. 

Angels,  archangels,  seraphs,  cherubim, 

Flashing  with  varied  hues  of  splendor  bright, 

All  join  the  general  joy,  to  hail  their  king! 

Down  from  the  heavenly  heights,  with  joyful  haste, 

They  fly  to  meet  him  on  his  upward  way! 

Hark  !     How  their  loud,  and  rapturous  acclaim 

Rings  through  the  heights  of  vast  creation's  dome! 

O  slumbering  Earth!     Art  thou  too  deaf  to  hear? 

Wilt  thou  not  join  the  universal  joy  ? 

'Tis  thine  own  Lord,  whose  triumph  they  proclaim! 

His  glorious  victory  is  also  thine ! 

Thine  Advocate,  Redeemer,  Saviour,  Friend, 

Triumphant  o'er  thy  deadliest  enemies, 

Ascends  and  "  captive  leads  captivity!" 

Ring  on!    Ye  sweet  toned  bells  of  Heaven!    Ring 

on! 
And  all  ye  instruments  of  heavenly  joy, 
Sound  forth  your  loudest  notes!     Ye  pearly  gates 
Throw  wide  yonr  portals  to  leceive  your  King! 


Book  Sixth — Victory  oi'cr  Death.  385 

Your  voices  sweet,  ye  happy  angels  join, 

In  most  tiiiimphaiit,  most  ecstatic  strains! 

Join,  O  my  soul,  in  thine  unseen  retreat, 

To  echo  back  these  raptures  of  the  skies! 

O  beating  heart,  keep  time,  with  love  and  joy : 

Oh,  wondrous  harmonies,  sublime,  and  sweet ! 

Did  Heaven  itself  e'er  hear  such  thrilling  strains? 

Behold!    The  shining  hosts  have  met  their  Lord ! 

And  see,  reflected  in  his  glorious  face. 

Their  glad  emotions,  joy,  and  love,  for  love  ! 

But  now  He  looks  for  other  greetings  still, 

E'en  tenderer,  and  dearer  to  his  heart. 

Behold  yon  beauteous  company  approach, 

The  blest  and  happy  children  of  his  love. 

Their  robes  were  washed  in  his  most  precious  blood. 

White  as  the  driven  snow  they  now  appear. 

Their  hearts  all  beat  in  unison  with  his. 

Unutterable  joy,  and  boundless  love 

Fill  every  soul,  yea,  love  unspeakable. 

Yet  is  its  language  known  from  heart  to  heart. 

And  sweeter  sounds  than  flow  from  souls  redeemed 

Were  never  heard  before  in  Heaven  itself  I 

They  too  have  triumphed  over  sin  and  death. 

But  gained  their  vict'ry   through   their  CaptaiTi's 

blood. 
These  are  but  part  of  Jesus'  ransomed  host! 
What  shall  the  grand  and  fliiul  gathering  bo' 

But  one  more  welcome,  better  far  than  all, 
Awaits  the  glorious  Victor  over  sin  I 


386  Bionopsis. 

Oh,  bliss  beyond  the  depth  of  finite  minds  ! 
The  Father's  welcome  to  the  Son  he  loves! 
Alas,  but  for  a  moment  vre  may  see, 
E'en  in  oui-  yearning  thoughts,  the  things  of  God. 
The  light  of  earth  seems  commonplace  and  dim, 
And  serves  to  hide  the  splendors  of  the  skies. 


"We  gaze  astonished  up  the  azure  vault 
Where  our  dear  Lord  triumphant  took  his  way ! 
A  moment  since  in  happy  converse  here 
(We  held  our  breath  to  catch  his  every  word), 
He  spoke  to  our  enraptured  hearts  of  things 
"Pertaining  to  the  kingdom  of  our  God," 
And  then  He  raised  his  hands  to  bless,  when,  lo! 
Caught  up,  a  cloud  received  him  from  our  sight. 

And  now  the  very  cloud  is  all  dissolved. 
Heaven  shows  no  sign !     Serene  her  field  of  blue. 
As  ere  she  snatched  the  treasure  of  our  souls. 
Alas  ]    How  cold,  to  fondly  yearning  hearts ! 
Her  verj^  beauty,  gloom,  to  those  whose  eyes, 
All  dim  with  tears,  are  yet  untaught  to  look, 
With  patient  faith,  and  sweet  expectancy, 
Beyond  the  veil,  where  Hope's  strong  anchor  lies. 

Yet  mourner,  gaze  with  us.     Your  loved,  and  lost, 
Was  dearer  far  to  God,  who  made  his  own. 
Than  e'en  to  your  fond  hearts.     And  God  recalls 
The  loan  of  earthly  life  from  those  lie  loves 
To  call  them  home,  more  fully  to  endow 


Book  Sixth —  Vu'fory  over  Death.  387 

With  titu',  iiialieimblo  life  in  Heaven  ! 

Yes,  gaze  with  us.     Tlie  Heaven  that  seems  to  smile 

So  coldly  on  our  monioatary  grief, 

Smiles  also  iu  ineffable  delight. 

Eternal  iu  the  Heavens.     Oh,  look  uot  down 

Where  Earth  received  that  cherished  vanished  form. 

He  is  not  there,  "whoui  God  has  taken  home! 

But  look  above  wlieie  Chi ist  hath  gone  before 

Oh,  may  we  all  "be  with  him  where  he  is ! " 

Better,  oh,  better  far!  than  dwelling  here, 

"Where  Antichrist  usurps  his  rightful  throne, 

And  sin  and  sorrow  share  their  leign  with  death. 

But  Jesus  has  a  service  for  us  here, 

And  so,  like  him,  we  wait  our  finished  work. 

Till  then  "we  walk  by  faith,  and  not  by  sight," 
And  fix  our  hearts  and  hopes  "  on  things  above,*' 
Where  Chi-ist  doth  sit  beside  the  throne  of  God. 


But  dost  thou  still  prefer  to  walk  by  sight. 
And  proudly  say,  "To  see  is  to  believe?" 
Clonsider  well  the  nature  of  thy  choice. 
'Tis  not  the  falsity  of  things  unseen 
Which  hinders  feet  that  willingly  would  tread. 
With  patient  steps,  the  upward  hea  enly  road, 
Nor  yet  the  weight  of  evidence  that  draws 
The  hearts  of  men  away  from  things  unseen. 
'Tweie  worse  than  brutish  folly  to  affirm 
That  only  things  by  mortals  seen  are  real, 


388  Bionopsfs. 

And  scarcel}^  less  to  deem  the  things  liere  seen 
More  real  Hum  God,  the  Maker  of  them  all. 
"The  invisible  things  of  him  are  clearly  seen." 
The  weight  of  evidence  Avould  e'en  constrain 
lieludani  feet  to  walk  the  way  of  faith. 

"Why  then  this  choice  of  baseless  unbelief! 

And  what  the  inward  nature  of  the  choice? 

'Tis  plain  'tis  not  the  choice  of  evidence 

Compels  the  soul  to  turn  from  things  unseen. 

The  force  lies  in  the  soul.     A  heavy  weiglit, 

Of  worldliness,  ungodliness,  and  sin, 

Draws  it  from  God,  from  Heaven,  and  holy  things, 

And  makes  it  gravitate  like  lead  to  Earth  ! 

The  strength  of  evidence  would  bear  us  uji, 

As  water  buoys  up  the  swimmer  bold. 

But  unbelief  heeds  not  this  buoyant  force, 

With  suicidal  folly  plunging  deep 

Into  the  dark  and  unknown  depths  below  ; 

And  faithless  cowardice  sinks  out  of  sight, 

E'en  by  its  misdirected  efforts  drowned. 

The  soul  to  heavenly  aspiration  roused, 
Views  all  things  beaming  in  the. light  of  God. 
The  sight  of  heavenly  glories  lifts  it  up 
In  holy  contemplation  towards  the  skies. 
Yet  worldliness  scarce  glances  towards  the  stars, 
But  quickly  banishing  all  lofty  thought. 
Grovels  in  grossness,  vanity,  and  Adce. 

The  choice  determining  to  unbelief 

Is  choosing  earthlv  good  instead  of  God. 


Book  Sixth — I'ui'o/y  07'cy  Death.  389 

But  shall  we  call  that  ^ood  which  clogs  the  soul, 

Which  blinds  it  to  its  heavenly  destiny, 

Aud  cuts  it  oti'  from  God,  and  good  divine  % 

A  sinful  unbelief  calls  evil  good, 

(Jood,  evil,  calling  its  own  darkness  light, 

And  deeming  dark  the  light  of  God's  own  truth. 

We  ask  again.     What  is  a  choice  like  thisi 
'Tis  not  mere  guiltless  difference  of  view. 
'  Tis  rank  reheJUon^  folly ^  heinous  sin  ! 

Shall  subjects  dare  despise  their  King's  decree, 

Eecalcitrating  e'en  at  just  commands. 

Which  they  themselves  acknowledge  right  and  good, 

Yet  justify  themselves  by  blaming  him 

For  things  not  clear  to  their  contracted  view  ? 

With  all  his  messages  the  King  doth  send 

Credentials  true  which  faithful  souls  discern. 

Uncertainty  implies  the  soul's  neglect. 
The  spirit  too,  of  disobedience. 
But  disol)edience  could  be  justified 
Not  by  mere  doubt  alone,  but  ceitainty. 
Most  clear  and  absolute,  of  wilful  fraud. 
Against  the  truth  and  purpose  of  the  King. 
What  poor  excuse  of  special  points  of  doubt 
Can  justify  a  choice  prefei-ring  doubt, 
Preferring  things  forbidden  by  the  King"? 
The  patriot  soldier,  faithful,  true,  and  good. 
Enlisting  freely  in  his  country's  cause. 
Is  scarce  in  daneei"  of  the  foe's  deceits. 


39°  Bionopsis. 

A  watcliial  seuUuel,  alert,  and  wise, 
He  shuns  all  parley,  scorns  all  compromise, 
Obeys  liis  caplaiu's  orders  from  his  heart. 
Jjiit  he  whose  heart  inclines  him  to  the  foe, 
Who  serves  reluctant,  with  divided  heart. 
Or,  self-indulgent,  sleeps  upon  his  post, 
Will  fall  an  easy  prey  to  cunning  foes. 

The  Lord's  disciples  now,  henceforth,  must  walk, 

Not  by  the  sight  of  their  incarnate  Lord, 

Nor  by  dead  works,  nor  empty  forms,  or  words. 

But  by  a  living  faith  in  Christ  their  Lord — 

By  living  union  to  a  living  head. 

Christ  was  a  season  known  in  human  flesh, 

"Yet  now,  henceforth,  we  know  him  thus,  no  more." 

' '  Ye  men  of  Galilee,  why  stand  ye  here. 

Still  gazing  into  Heaven  ?     Your  Lord  will  come 

In  manner  as  ye  now  have  seen  him  go." 

Thus  said  the  angels  to  the  wondering  souls 
Who  saw  theii'  Lord  translated  to  the  skies. 
And  with  this  l)lessed  hope  they  now  returned 
To  do  the  work  committed  to  their  hands. 
Preparing  for  the  coming  of  their  Lord. 

But  fiist  they  wait,  according  to  his  word, — 
"Tarry  ye  here,  yet  at  Jerusalem, 
Until  endued  with  power  from  on  high."' 

*'T/«'.9  is  ihe  victory  thai  nvercomrfh  tJir  irorJf],  even  our 
faith:'     1  John  v.  4. 


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Cowqu.eirtu£, 

Cc  COWQU.tr, 


PROEM. 

Spirit  of  grace  aud  power  Divine, 

Inspire  my  sluggisli  soul: 
Oh,  may  my  wayward  thoughts  be  Thine, 

To  move  at  Thy  control. 

Thine  be  my  hands,  to  do  Thy  will, 
My  lips,  to  speak  Thy  praise, 

And  may  Tliy  blessed  presence  fill 
All  my  remaining  days. 

Oh,  i)urge  my  sinful,  selfish  heait. 

Endue  it  with  Thy  grace. 
The  fullness  of  Thy  love  impart. 

Make  it  Thy  dwelling-place. 

Oh.  may  Thine  influence  never  cease. 

Descending  from  above; 
Fill  me  with  holy,  heavenly  peace, 

"SVith  all-embracing  love. 

"Thy  gentleness  hath  made  me  great," 

In  union.  Lord,  with  Thee. 
Such  greatness,  for  my  chief  estate, 

My  high  ambition  be. 

Be  this  my  constant  pleasure.  Lord, 

To  do  Thy  pleasure  here. 

My  fear,  to  lose  Thy  holy  fear. 

My  gain,  Thy  great  reward. 

393 


394  Bionopsis. 

Be  this  my  sweet  yet  anxious  care 

Thy  work  with  zeal  to  do, 
Thy  burdens  cheerfully  to  bear, 

Thy  joys  each  day  renew. 

Though  eyes  may  yet  ne'er  view  thy  face, 

May  I  behold  Thee  near. 
And  feel  Thee,  in  my  soul's  embrace, 

Beyond  all  else,  most  dear. 


BOOK    SEVENTH. 

All  glorious  is  the  light  of  literal  day, 

Grand  is  the  natural  scenery  of  earth. 

And  full  of  splendor  night's  sublime  array, 

But  far  more  glorious  shines  the  light  of  God, 

Along  the  track  of  earth's  sad  history. 

Through  all  the  gloom  of  human  sin  and  Avoe ! 

Egypt,  The  Red  Sea,  Sinai,  Jordan  too, 

Beheld  the  power  and  faithfulness  of  God, 

When  gloriously  He  triumphed  o'er  His  foes, 

And  fearfully  rel)uked  His  people's  sins. 

The  mountains  quaked,  and  trembled  at  His  voice, 

Giving  His  oracles  in  thunder  tones. 

And  all  the  people  bowed  their  heads  in  fear : 

The  night  grew  pale  before  the  fiery  cloud, 

That  vailed  the  awful  presence  of  her  king: 

Heaven  furnished  angel's  food  for  sinful  men, 

Yea  gave  them  flesh  to  eat  when  they  complained, 

Yet  vengeance  entered  in  between  their  teeth  : 

The  desert  rock  poured  forth  cool  limpid  streams, 

Yet  there  e'en  Moses,  sinning,  found  his  doom: 

And  in  the  tabernacle's  inmost  shrine 

The  glory  of  the  Lord  dwelt  day  and  night, 

But  woe  to  him  intruding  there  to  gaze: 

In  splendor  from  the  holy  Teinple's  courts 

(WTiose  solemn  rites  impressed  each  soul  with  awe) 

The  daily  sacrifice  was  offered  up, 

395 


39''  Bionopsis. 

And  blood  most  freely  flowed  for  every  sin : 

So  death  walked,  daily,  hand  in  hand  with  life. 

The  holy  law,  sent  for  the  life  of  man, 

''  Proved  unto  condemnation  and  to  death." 

It  drove  men  helplessly  to  fall  on  God. 

To  plead  His  mercy  full  revealed  in  Christ. 

And  yet  the  ministration  e'en  of  death, 

Of  written  ordinance,  engraved  in  stone, 

"Was  full  of  glory,  solemn  pomp  and  power, 

And  full  of  hope  sublime  for  holy  souls. 

Who  found,  through  it,  the  righteousness  of  faith. 

But  that  which  thus  was  glorious  to  the  eye, 

Or  inward  sense  of  majesty  and  power, 

"  Has  now  no  glory ' '  to  the  sons  of  God, 

"By  reason  of  the  glory  that  excels," 

Viewed  by  their  inmost  hearts  and  ransomed  souls; 

For  far  '•  more  glorious"  God's  amazing  love 

Shone  through  His  Son — His  all  transforming  grace, 

Imj^arted  by  His  holy  Spirit's  power. 

The  Spirit's  reign  with  wondrous  power  begins. 
Instructed  by  their  Loid  to  wait  that  power, 
A  little  baud  of  plain  unlettered  men 
(Whose  mission  to  evangelize  the  world 
Were,  else,  but  folly  arrant,  arrogant) 
Assembled  in  a  memorable  place. 
The  promise  of  their  Father  to  receive. 
That  "upper  chamber  in  Jerusalem  '' 
Will  e'er  be  held  a  dear  and  sacred  place, 


Book  Se7'enth — Life  MiiitanI  and   Triumphanl.      397 

Though  now  long  "numbered  with  the  thiugs  that 

were." 
Made  cousecrate  to  God  by  prayer  aud  praise, 
'Twas  also  blessed  by  His  own  Spirit's  grace. 
For  lo !  'tis  shaken  by  a  mighty  wind, 
And  cloven  tongues  of  flame  descend  IVom  heaven, 
liesting  on  every  head ; — and  every  heart 
Doth  burn  with  holy  fire,  with  fear  and  love, 
Aud  joy  unspeakable! — and  every  tongue 
Is  loosed  to  speak  the  praises  of  the  King. 

Thus,  ever  since,  the  chosen  ones  of  God, 

^^'ho  love  the  secret  place  where  Christ  is  found, 

In  happy  fellowship  of  prayer  and  praise. 

Enjoy,  oftimes,  the  rapture  of  His  love. 

He  who  in  truth  doth  seek  will  lind  Him  there, 

According  to  His  word, 

"Where  two  or  three 
Are  gathered  in  my  name,  there  I  will  be."' 

Gather  then  truly  in  the  name  of  Christ, 
Ye  who,  in  truth,  believe  and  love  your  Lord. 
Be  not  ashamed  to  own  His  Holy  name ; 
And,  if  ye  prize  the  riches  of  His  grace, 
Seek  them  with  happy  expectation  too. 
Oh,  gather  not  with  dead  and  worldly  frames. 
Meet  not  the  best  beloved  of  j'our  hearts. 
With  cold  civilities  and  empty  forms. 
Let  not  mere  duty  l)ring  you  to  His  feet. 
Anticipate  the  sweet  and  sacred  hour. 
Prepare  yourselves  e'en  as  a  haj^py  bride 


398  Biotiopsis. 

Adoi'us  herself,  and  tunes  her  heart  with  joy, 

To  meet  the  cherished  bridegroom  when  He  comes. 

Then  He  will  meet  yonr  souls  with  love  and  power, 
Power  to  resist  and  overcome  the  world. 
And  power  to  work  great  wonders  in  his  name. 
Such  power  no  earthly  force  can  e'er  confer. 

Yet  e'en  mechanical  familiar  powers 

Have  wondrous  force.     Behold  a  single  man 

With  screw  and  lever  'neath  yon  edifice 

With  patient  labor  lift  its  weight  immense, 

Whose  thousandth  part  would  crush  him  in  its  fall. 

With  power  like  this  Archimedes  proposeil 

(With  stand  and  fulcrum  given),  to  move  the  world ! 

But  mightier  far,  and  far  more  wonderful, 
The  power  to  move  a  world  of  fallen  men. 
Conveyed  in  fact  and  not  in  fancied  dreams, 
To  plain  unlettered  men  of  Galilee ! 
Yes,  theirs  it  was  to  move  the  souls  of  men, 
Not  move,  by  inches,  solid  forms  through  space, 
(The  lower  office  given  to  soulless  force), 
But  lift  men  up,  from  depths  of  sin  atid  shame, 
To  heights  of  holiness,  towards  God  and  heaven! 

The  power  bestowed  is  God's  almighty  power. 
Which  power  alone  could  loose  iDroud  Satan's  yoke, 
(Magician  foul  who  now  mankind  enthrals) 
Dissolve  the  great  Enchanter's  dreadful  spell, 
Quicken  men  "dead  in  trespasses  and  sins," 
And  make  them  truly  free  and  living  souls.   ' 


Book  Scvaith — Life  Militafit  and   Triumphant.     399 

'Twould  take  a  prophet's  keu  and  aiigePs  pen 
The  hist'ry  strange  of  Christ's  dear  Church  to  tell. 
Bride  of  His  love  and  matchless  tenderness, 
For  whom  He  freely  shed  His  precious  blood, 
She  follows  in  the  thorny  path  He  trod, 
With  steadfast  heart  and  bruised  but  patient  fee 
Familiar  with  the  taunts  and  buffetings, 
And  cruel  malice  of  a  Godless  world. 
Behold,  alas!  the  streams  of  holy  blood 
That  sealed  the  Bride's  devotion  to  her  Lord  ! 
Ah  !     Does  He  love  her  nott  why  suffer,  then, 
Satan  to  wreak  his  vengeance  on  her  head  I 
Bat  is  this  fair  one,  burdened  so  with  grief. 
Thus  left  to  labor  through  the  wilderness, 
The  Bride,  indeed,  beloved  of  the  Lord  % 

Yea,  dear,  as  Jesus  to  the  Father's  heart. 
His  chosen  bride  is  to  the  Lord  Himself 
But  He  by  suffering  proved  His  love  to  her. 
So  she  proves  hers.     Yet  not  by  needless  woes. 
In  bringing  into  glory  many  sons. 
The  Father  made  His  Well  Beloved  Son 
A  perfect  Saviour  e'en  by  suffering  dire. 
And  so,  in  bringing  in  her  sons  to  life, 
The  Bride  must  suffer.     Yet  'tis  for  her  good. 
The  chastening  of  the  Father,  "grievous"  now, 
Shall  afterwards  bring  forth  the  blessed  fruits 
Of  righteousness  to  those  thus  exercised. 

But  stranger  still  the  follies,  sins,  and  crimes 
Committed  in  the  name  of  Christ's  chaste  Bride, — 


4O0  Bionopsh. 

The  bloody  persecutions,  wicked  wars, 
And  gross  iniquities  of  deepest  dye, 
So  counter  to  tlie  Avill  and  word  of  Christ, 
Grieving  the  Lord,  and  all  who  love  his  cause. 

These  deeds  were  scored  as  victories  for  Hell, 
And,  at  the  tidings  strange,  all  Hell  rejoiced! 
And  wicked  men,  and  infidels  rejoiced  ! 

Contrast,  with  this,  sweet  christian  charity, 
"Kejoiciug  not  in"  base  "iniquity," — 
''  Eejoiciug  in  the  truth." 

But  unbelief, — 
Which  fain  would  show  that  righteousness  is  wrong, 
That  love  of  God  is  only  selfishness. 
And  holy  truth  is  falsehood  in  disguise, — 
Eejoiceth  e'en  when  truth  is  falsified! 
Though  virtue  fail  not,  slander  still  may  foul 
The  name  it  hates, — the  Holy  Church  of  Christ, — 
And  when  the  Devil's  children  counterfeit 
The  form  and  features  fair  of  Christ's  pure  Bride, 
And  practice,  in  her  name,  foul  wickedness, 
(The  j)roper  fruits  of  unbelief  itself) 
It  falsely  charges  all  on  Christ's  true  Church. 

The  Church  of  Christ  is  not  a  form  of  flesh. 

Or  mere  conglomerate  of  fleshly  forms. 

Though  fair  the  form,  though  splendid  the  array. 

Though  bound  by  righteous  rules,  or  truthful  creeds. 

If  life  flow  not  from  Christ,  the  living  head, 

'Tis  but  a  corpse,  or  counterfeit,  or  mask, 

Concealing  fraud,  corruption,  sin,  and  death. 


Book  Se7'cntlt—Lije  MiJitant  and    Triuinpliant.      401 

Christ  liatli  espoused  a  spiritual  Bride, — 

Its  form  invisible  to  mortal  eyes, — 

Fairer,  oh,  fairer  fai',  in  eyes  divine, 

Than  loveliest  daughter  born  from  ^lother  Eve 

Xot  yet,  indeed,  j)erfection  crowns  her  brow, 
Not  yet  '"without  a  wrinkle  or  a  spot,'' 
She  shines  among  the  fully  sanctified. 
Where  Christ  will  soon  "  present  her  to  himself ; " 
But  growing  beauty,  growing  life  and  grace, 
The  heavenly  "beauties  of  true  holiness," 
The  loveliness  of  life  and  light  divine, 
Eeflected  from  the  face  of  him  she  loves, 
Keveals  her  kinship  to  the  Son  of  God. 

Christ  daily  grants  hei-  new  supplies  of  grace, 
And  so,  from  glory  unto  glory  raised, 
l']ach  day  she  finds  herself  more  like  her  love. 
In  his  bright  image  more  and  more  transformed, 
"Even  as  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord."' 

Through  all  her  members  shines  this  light  divine, 
l^nnoticed  by  the  vain  and  busy  world. 
E"en  as  the  stars  of  heaven,  unseen  by  day. 
With  varying  splendors  shines  each  different  star. 
Some,  with  a  light  most  dim,  are  scarce  discerned, 
Yet  all  compose  a  glorious  galaxy. 

No  nation  now,  denomination,  sect, 

Or  section  of  the  outward  Christian  Church, 

Can  rightly  arrogate  this  honored  name, 

Belonging  only  to  the  sanctified. 

The  Lord  will  scoin  the  vain  pretence  of  all 
26 


402  Bionopsis. 

Who  claim  this  dear  relationship  to  him 
Because  of  rites  performed,  or  lioly  hands 
Imposed  on  graceless  heads,  or  e'en  because 
They  in  his  holy  name  "  have  prophesied  " 
And  many  "works  most  wonderful  have  done/' 
But  have  not  truly  known  and  loved  the  Lord;— 
"  Have  not  his  spirit,  and  are  none  of  his." 

To  them  the  Lord  will  say, 

"  I  know  you  not ! 
Depart,  ye  workers  of  iniquity!" 

The  Bride  of  Christ,  e'en  now  a  glorious  church, 

Though  yet  invisible  to  carnal  eyes. 

Joins  to  her  loveliness  true  majesty — 

"Fair  as  the  moon,  clear  as  the  noon-day  sun, 

And  terrible,"  to  all  the  sons  of  night. 

As  God's  victorious  and  bannered  hosts. 

"The  Captain  of  her  Great  Salvation"  leads 

Her  glad  triumphant  course.     The  holy  John, 

In  grand  apocalyptic  vision,  saw 

The  symbols  true, — "  One  riding  on  a  horse. 

Snow  white,  and  going  forth  o'er  all  the  eai-th. 

Both  conquering  and  to  conquer!"     Blessed  Earth, 

Whene'er  the  glorious  conquest  is  complete  ! 

The  victories  of  Christ  and  his  true  Church 
Are  victories  for  poor  humanity. 
Behold,  in  contrast,  those  of  bloody  Mars, 
The  dreadful  God  admired  by  worldly  men. 
A  blackened  desolation  marks  his  course ! 
A  scene  of  horror  meets  our  anguished  eyes — 


Book  Sevc7ith — Life  Militant  and  Tiiumphant.     403 

Of  dire  destruction,  mortal  agony — 

A  bloody  plain  strewn  with  the  mangled  forms 

That  once  rejoiced  in  lofty  human  life. 

And  list !     The  dreadful  groans,  and  shrieks  of  pain 

Of  those  who  languish  on  the  verge  of  death. 

The  wails  and  lamentations,  sobs  and  moans 

Of  those  bereaved  of  friends  as  dear  as  life. 

Behold  the  pleasant  homes  left  desolate, 

The  wives  and  little  ones,  so  happy  once, 

Now  wild  with  grief,  on  whom  the  dreadful  pall 

Of  widowhood  and  orphanhood  descends, — 

The  melancholy  trophies  true  of  Mars! 

Helpless  to  save,  kind  pity  wrings  her  hands, 
Oft  pressing  on  her  heart,  to  check  the  pain 
Of  swelling  grief,  now  bursting  through  restraint 
In  scalding  tears,  and  groans,  and  heavy  sighs. 
Such  victories  Mohammed's  followers  won, 
The  Arab  hordes,  the  Turks,  the  Saracens. 

But  mark  the  progress  of  the  Church  of  Christ. 
Her  victories  are  those  of  peace  and  love. 
The  very  "wilderness  is  glad  for  her:" 
The  thirsty  desert  "blossoms  as  the  rose.'' 
Wild  pagau  nations  lay  their  fierceness  by, 
Their  war-like  weapons  change  to  tools  of  peace, 
(Their  "spears  to  pruning  hooks,''  their  "swords  to 

shares," ) 
Receive  the  decent  dress  of  Christian  men. 
And  study  useful  arts  and  gentle  speech. 
The  nations  learn  their  common  brotherhood, — 
The  universal  fatherhood  of  God. 


404  Bionopsis. 

Sweet  charity  walks  forth  to  bless  mankind, 
To  feed  the  hungry,  clothe  the  destitute, 
To  heal  the  sick,  restore  the  blind  to  sight, 
Eeclaim  the  wand' ring,  succor  the  oppressed, 
To  help  the  feeble,  soothe  the  widow's  grief, 
And  cause  the  orphan's  heart  "to  sing  for  joy." 

The  law  supreme,  of  Christ's  true  Church,  is  love 
By  this  she  gains  her  noblest  victories, 
Such  victories  as  bless  the  souls  of  men, 
Xot  robbing  them  of  all  that  life  holds  dear, — 
Yea,  taking  all, — brief  earthly  life  itself, — 
But  granting  blessings  never  known  before, 
Kaising  the  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins 
To  truest  life,  sublime,  without  an  end. 

The  Church  of  Christ  the  moral  state  upbuilds 
Which  infidelity  and  war  destroy. 
With  patient  prayerful  labor  she  restores 
The  moral  desolations  they  have  wi-ought. 

If  honest,  themselves,  infidels  confess 

The  outward  blessings  of  the  reign  of  Chi  ist, 

And  own,  that,  should  his  principles  prevail, 

Millennial  blessedness  would  soon  ensue. 

Dishonesty  or  ignorance  alone 

Denies  the  wondrous  good  the  church  has  done. 

Yet  men,  unwilling  to  obey  the  truth. 

And  enter  into  union  with  the  Lord, 

Plead  this  excuse,  "corruption  in  the  church." 

Dishonesty,  hypocrisy,  and  fraud 

Sometimes  infect  the  outward  Church  of  Christ." 


Book  Seventh — Life  Militixnt  and   Iriumphant.     405 

Is  tliis  au  honest  plea,  ye  uijriglit  souls 
Who  pride  yourselves  upon  your  houesty  ? 
Or  mere  excuse,  to  hold  aloof  from  Christ? 

Poor  human  nature  even  when  renewed, 
Partaking  of  a  nature  all  divine, 
Shows  not  at  once  perfection  like  the  Lord's. 
The  little  seed  grows  not  at  once  a  tree. 

And  false  professors  gather  in  the  church. 

So  parasites,  oft  clustering  on  a  tree, 

Share  not  its  nature,  neither  bare  its  fruits. 

"What  honest  soul  would  therefore  blame  the  tree? 

That  which  is  "grafted  in  "  alone  receives 

The  life  which  constitutes  identity. 

As  well  decry  all  progress,  science,  art. 

Because  of  imperfections,  or  mistakes, 

As  Christ's  true  Church,  because  of  parasites. 

Oh,  fair  indeed  the  holy  Church  of  Christ ! 
Eich  her  adornments!     Dear  her  sacred  courts! 
For  whatsoe'er  most  precious  seems  to  man. 
Whatever  doth,  or  can,  most  bless  his  soul. 
Of  spiritual  riches,  social  charms. 
Or  holiest  affections,  cluster  there. 

The  fondest  love,  that  is  not  sanctified, 
Uplifted,  and  sublimed  l)y  grace  divine, 
Is  but  a  natural  instinct,  soon  to  die, 
That  scarce  exalts  us  o'er  the  animal. 
But  that  enkindled  by  the  love  of  God, 
That  which  is  by  his  spirit,  "shed  abroad," 


4o6  Bionopsis. 

And  finds  its  highest  object  God  himself, 
Unites  the  soul  to  God,  and  must  endure 
When  earth  has  faded, — e'en  while  God  abides ! 
The  love  of  kindred,  family,  and  friends 
Becomes  a  iiigh  and  sacred  principle, 
Whene'er  the  sacredness  of  souls  is  seen, 
As  objects  of  divine,  redeeming  love, 
And  heirs  of  holy,  everlasting  life. 

Hope  of  a  dying  world!     Fair  Bride  of  Christ! 
Kind  Mother  of  the  penitent  and  meek, 
What  heavenly  riches  dost  thou  bring  mankind ! 
Our  Lord,  ascending,  "gave  his  gifts  to  men  '' 
Through  thee,  thou  happy  almoner  of  grace ! 

The  nursing  mother  offers  to  her  babe 

A  wealth  of  life  and  love,  that  later  years, 

With  all  their  gold  and  silver,  cannot  buy. 

So  thou  the  richest  spiritual  gifts 

Dost  minister  to  souls  new  born  through  thee 

For  whatsoe'er  is  tenderest  in  love, 
Wliate'er  most  consecrate  in  time  and  place, 
Whate'er  is  happiest  in  joy  and  peace, 
AVhatever  most  sublime  in  blissful  hope, 
Most  sacred  in  the  memories  of  the  past. 
Most  comforting  in  times  of  jjain  and  grief, 
Most  purifying  in  its  influence  sweet, 
Truly  refining  in  its  inward  grace, 
Enlightening  in  its  clear  displays  of  truth, 
Ailiate'er  is  grandest  in  the  realms  of  thought, 


Book  Seventh — Life  Militant  and   Triioiiphant.     407 

Whate'er  most  true  and  beautiful  iu  ait, 

Most  sweet  and  touching  in  the  breath  of  song, 

All,  all  ai-e  found  in  thy  s\N'eet  ministry, 

Dear  Spouse  of  Christ,  Bride  of  the  Dying  Lamb, 

AVho  loved  thee  best,  and  gaA'e  himself  for  thee ! 

And  we,  thy  sons,  would  love  thee  more  and  moi  e, 

Thou  gentle  Mother,  nursing  us  to  life. 

We  feel  a  filial  pride  in  thy  dear  name. 

Thou  Church  of  Jesus,  slander  thee  who  will. 

Whate'er  is  noblest  in  the  course  of  time, 

From  earliest  era's  of  the  misty  past, 

(Shining  like  stars  of  greatest  magnitude 

Through  nebulous  clouds  of  long  forgotten  names) 

Whate'er  most  sure  and  grand  in  history, 

Heroic  in  achievement,  strong  in  faith. 

Wisest  and  best  in  true  philanthropy, 

Patient  in  suffering,  kind  in  thought  and  deed, 

Unselfish  in  devotion,  yea,  in  short, 

Whate'er  is  most  sublime  in  character, 

Eichest  in  blessings  for  the  present  life, 

Grandest  iu  promise  of  eternal  good, 

Closest  uniting  man  to  God  himself. 

And  reaching  all  the  noblest  ends  of  life. 

We  find  in  thee !     Illustrious  Church  of  Christ! 

Most  venerable  in  antiquity. 

More  ancient  than  the  oldest  guilds  of  Earth, 

Religious,  social,  or  political. 

Yet  ever  young  and  vigorous  and  fair, 

Thou  art  the  ever  living;  Bride  of  Christ! 


4o8  Bioiwpsis. 

Dear  Church  of  Christ !    We  love  thy  holy  courts, 
Where  dwelleth  still  the  honor  of  our  Lord, 
There,  still,  he  meets  his  humble  waiting  friends. 
Unseen,  but  loved  with  love  unspeakable, 
There  still  he  sheds  sweet  influence  of  his  grace, 
Like  subtle  fragrance,  delicate  and  pure, 
And  bringing  healing  balm  to  sin  sick  souls. 

O  sacred  place,  of  grateful  happy  praise. 

Of  true,  devout,  and  heart  uplifting  prayer, 

Thou  art  "the  House  of  God,  the  Gate  of  Heaven!" 

There  happy  souls  in  heavenly  places  sit, 

And  feast  on  foretastes  rich  of  Heaven  above. 

Worldly  and  unbelieving  souls  may  scorn 

The  joy's  they  never  knew,  and  cannot  share. 

Alas!     How  dead  to  all  the  things  of  God  ! 

How  deaf  to  all  the  harmonies  of  Heaven ! 

Yet  some  who  call  themselves  the  Lord's 
Love  not  the  place  of  prayer. 

Is  this  thy  case  ? 
Dost  thou  from  choice  forsake  this  holy  i^lace, 
AV^here  Christ  is  pledged  to  meeb  with  those  he  loved? 
Carest  thou  not,  O  self  complacent  soul. 
Who  hopest,  sometime,  to  attain  to  God, 
And  join  the  raptures  of  the  Heavenly  hosts, 
Carest  thou  not  to  meet  thy  Saviour  now. 
To  share  his  love  and  speak  his  worthy  j)raise? 
Needest  thou  not  the  blessings  of  his  grace? 

Consider  thou  the  meaning  of  thy  choice. 
Dost  thou  prefer  the  fellowship  of  earth? 


Book  Scvcnt/i — Life  Militant  and   Triuniphant.      409 

Or,  when  thou  seem'st  t'  approach  the  living  God 

Dost  thou  seek  not  so  much  his  promised  grace 

As  intellectual  benefit  from  men 

Of  learning  or  of  eloquence  of  speech? 

Or  dost  thou  scorn  the  lowly  fellowship 

Of  poor  and  humble  children  of  the  King  I 

O  ye,  who  think  ye  truly  love  the  Lord, 

"  Take  heed  lest  any  fail  of  saving  grace." 

God  gives  the  means  of  grace,  and  gives  the  grace, 

When  we,  (who  so  much  need),  seek,  by  these  means. 

Those  who  despise  the  grace,  neglect  the  means. 

Or  fail  to  use  with  earnest  diligence, 

"Will  surely  fail.     God  will  not  be  despised. 

O  wondrous  grace !    Of  all  the  gifts  to  man 
Most  wonderful !     Both  in  thy  source  profound, 
The  all  wise  thought,  and  righteous  will  of  God, 
And  in  thy  mighty  power  on  sin-slain  souls. 
To  those  who  seek  their  highest  good  in  Earth, 
Or  ignorautly  seek  an  unknown  God, 
Thou  art  an  unknown  good.     Concerning  thee 
Philosophers  have  long  enquii-ed  in  vain. 
True  "summum  bonum,"  highest  good  of  man, 
"Elixer  Vitae,"  sought  by  alchemists, 
The  fabled  "fount  of  youth,"'  now  realized  ! 

That  all  pervading  energy  of  life 
Which  animates  this  sublunary  scene. 
Mysterious  in  itself,  but  manifest, 
In  all  its  growth,  all  its  activities. 
Poinds  thee  its  highest  form,  its  richest  fruit! 


4IO  Bionopsis. 

The  unbeliever  may  deny  and  scorn 
The  grace  he  does  not  know,  much  less  desire, 
The  grace  whose  power  m  ould  purge  away  his  sin ! 
Scarce  more  unreasoning  is  he  who  scorns 
The  All  Creating,  All  Sustaining  Power, 
Who  manifests  himself  in  all  his  works. 
Clear  as  the  life  appears  in  fruit  and  flower. 
So  God,  the  source  of  life,  in  life  itself. 

If  thou  must  doubt,  my  unbelieving  friend, 
If  God's  credentials  thou  canst  not  discern, 
Be  modest  in  thy  doubts.     Dare  not  deny, 
Because  unknown  to  thee,  what  others  know 
By  ai^prehensions  clear  as  those  of  sense. 
So  men  devoid  of  science  might  deny 
The  power  of  gravity,  which  holds  us  all 
Firm  to  the  Earth,  or  that  more  vivid  force, 
Th'  electric  shock,  which  he  who  once  has  felt 
Through  all  his  members,  ne'er  henceforth  forgets. 
Could'st  thou  convince  him,  since  thou  hast  not  felt, 
That  'twas  a  thing  unreal  ? — the  idle  freak 
Of  mere  imagination,  highly  wrought  ? 
No  more  canst  thou,  him  who  has  knoMn   God's 

grace ! 

Grace  wins  the  greatest  victories  for  God. 
"  'Tis  not  by  might,  by  wisdom,  nor  by  power, 
But  by  my  Spirit,  saith  the  Lord  of  Hosts  !" 
All  seeming  victories,  without  God's  grace, 
Only  deceive  the  hearts  of  worldly  men. 
Learning,  rofmement,  cnllure,  art  and  wit, 
Have  all  their  share  to  elevate  mankind, 


Book  Seventh — Life  Militant  and   Triumphant.     411 

But  naught  can  save,  but  God's  redeeming-  grace. 
The  social  states  of  men  devoid  of  grace 
(The  grace  divine  that  purifies  the  heart, 
And  brings  us  into  union  close  with  Christ) 
May  still  with  human  grace  be  beautiful, 
With  all  things  charming  to  the  eye,  and  heart. 

So  churches  thrive,  throughout  all  Christendom, 

"  Which  have  a  name  to  live,  and  yet  are  dead." 

Human  and  worldly  virtues  may  abound. 

Strict  orthodoxy,  zeal  for  truth  and  right, 

A  large  benevolence,  high  etiquette, 

And  all  "the  small  sweet  courtesies  of  life  ;" 

And  art  maj^  bring  her  grandest,  choicest,  gifts. 

To  magnify  and  beautify  the  place, 

(Where  yet  thej'  meet  each  other  more  than  God) 

With  lofty  steej)les,  buttresses,  and  towers. 

With  nave  and  transept,  vaulted  ceilings  high, 

With  fluted  pillars,  arches,  capitals, 

And  windows  rich  with  color  and  device  ; 

Grandeur  and  beauty  in  perfection  join 

With  wondrous  architectural  symmetry. 

To  lift  the  mind  in  high  and  happj'  thought. 

Above  all  low,  and  mean,  and  petty  things  • 

A  gorgeous  ritual,  with  its  solemn  pomp, 

May  fill  the  soul  with  reverence  and  awe. 

And  even  transient  ecstasy  may  thrill 

The  sensitive  and  earnest  worshipper ; 

But  what  avails  it  all!    What  point  is  gained, 

'Gainst  Satan's  empire  o'er  a  godless  world, 

If  God's  redeeming  grace  be  wanting  still? 


412  liioiiopsis. 

Still  children  of  the  devil,  all  who  scorn 
Regenerating,  sanctifying  grace, 
Which  purifies  the  heart,  which  fills  with  love, 
And  makes  believers  truly  ' '  sous  of  God.' ' 


But  dost  thou  ask,  What  progress  now  is  made 
In  human  life?  in  Earth's  strange  history! 

Worldly  historians  in  vain  attempt 
By  guesses  shrewd,  research  profound  and  wide, 
Or  learned  philosophy  of  history. 
To  solve  the  problem  deep  of  human  life. 
To  trace  its  source,  or  show  its  noblest  end. 

Scorning  the  aid  of  Him,  who  made  mankind. 
And  from  the  first  beginning  knows  the  end, 
How  could  they  else  but  fail"? 

'Tis  God  alone 
Appoints  the  highest  destiny  of  men. 
He  gives  the  secret  in  his  holy  Word. 
And  he  who  seeks  it  at  some  other  source 
Foredooms  himself  to  failure  and  mistake. 
Too  high  do  busy,  worldly  men  esteem 
The  worldly  enterprise  which  fills  their  lives 
And  constitutes,  in  their  undue  regard, 
The  most  important  history  of  earth. 

The  greatest  theme  of  history  is  ivar, 
At  once  the  curse  and  token  of  our  guilt. 

But  what  of  "  holy  wars?'"     These  too  attest 
The  guilt  of  man  and  righteous  wrath  of  Heaven. 


Book  Seventh — Life  Miiitant  and   Triumphant.     413 

''Avenge,"  the  Lord  commands  us,  "  not  yourselves.'' 
"Vengeance  is  mine,  I  will  repay,"  saitli  God. 
And  so  ''to  magistrates  he  gives  the  sword," 
(An  instrument  of  guilt  in  wicked  hands) 
And  saith,  "he  beareth  not  the  sword  in  vain." 
But  not  by  war  will  Christ  his  kingdom  build; 
"Put  up  thy  sword  into  its  sheath,"  saith  he. 
Not  by  the  sword  can  graCfe  and  truth  be  given, 
Or  love  be  forced  upon  the  human  breast! 

"What  benefits  accrue  to  men  from  war  ? 
What  are  the  fruits  of  all  this  cost  and  blood  ? 

A  change  of  dynasties,  and  boundaries ! 
Alas !    One  dynasty  remains  unchanged ! 
Proud  Satan's  empire  even  grows  with  war! 
The  boundaries  of  sin  are  e'er  enlaiged ! 

The  peaceful  arts  vie  with  the  art  of  war 
To  claim  supreme  regard  from  worldly  men. 
The  fine  and  useful  arts  with  science  join 
To  fill  the  vaunting  page  of  history. 

But  naught  so  worthy  each  historian's  pen, 

So  hopeful  for  the  highest  weal  of  man. 

As  God's  own  work  in  saving  souls  from  sin, 

Through  his  own  Holy  Spirit's  gracious  power. 

And  through  the  ministrations  of  his  church. 

The  progress  of  the  kingdom  of  our  Lord 

Is  full  of  highest  hope  for  all  the  world. 

Ah  !    Grace  hath  grander  vict'  ries,  fai",  than  a\  ar ! 

Behold  the  glorious  growth  of  grace  and  truth  ! 
Christ's  Kingdom,  "  like  a  grain  of  mustard  seed," 


4 1 4  Bionopsis. 

Sown  in  the  cold,  ungenial  soil  of  earth, 
Where  wintry  barrenness  and  darkness  reign, 
And  desolation,  caused  by  reigning  sin. 
Where  hungry  birds  of  evil  omen  prowl, 
All  good  to  seize,  devour,  and  destroy, 
Was  watched  with  tenderest  love,  and  sleepless  care. 
Was  fostered,  vitalized,  and  nourished  up 
By  bounteous  grace!  "Where  sin  abounded,"  long. 
Now,    and    henceforth,    "doth    grace    much    more 
abound." 

"  Westward  the  course  of  empire  takes  its  way.' 
Proud  Babylon,  that  ruled  the  Orient, 
Bows,  humbly,  to  the  Grecian  conqueror ; 
Greece  falls  beneath  the  iron  hoofs  of  Rome, 
That  "dreadful  beast,"  that  "tramples  and  devours;" 
Strong  Rome  itself  obeys  the  Gallic  power  ; 
But  England  claims  the  empire  of  the  seas  ; 
And  young  republics  rule  the  Western  world. 
Long  may  they  rule,  in  amity  and  peace, — 
Their  principles  prevail  through  all  the  earth. 

E'en  so  the  Kingdom  of  our  Blessed  Lord 
Achieves  its  greatest  triumphs  in  the  West. 
As  Westward  moves  the  sun  in  all  its  course, 
(  "  His  going  forth  is  from  the  end  of  lieaven. 
His  circuit  even  to  the  ends  thereof,") 
Enlightening,  warming,  blessing  all  the  earth, 
So  goes  the  glorious  "Sun  of  Righteousness," 
With  richer,  grander  blessings  for  the  world. 
Dark  ignorance,  and  superstition  flee, 


Book  Seventh — lAfe  Militani  and    Triumphant.     415 

Like  shades  of  night  before  the  smiles  of  day, 

Barbaric  nations  bow  before  the  cross ; 

Their  pagan  temples,  foul  with  rites  obscene. 

Their  theatres,  all  stained  with  human  blood. 

Where  brutal  crowds  made  sport  of  sin  and  death, 

Their  suttee  pyres,  and  Juggernautic  cars, 

And  all  their  forms  of  guilt  and  shame  give  place 

To  churches,  schools,  asylums,  hospitals. 

Ferocity  and  cruelty  submit 

To  gentle  influence  of  Christian  love, — 

A  power  more  potent,  far,  than  brutal  force. 

So  winter's  furious  storms,  and  ice,  and  snow. 

Yield  to  the  breath  of  sweet  and  balmy  spring. 

Fraternal  bonds  unite  the  nations  now, 
In  interchange  of  commerce,  friendship),  art, 
That  once  met  only  on  the  battlefield  ! 
Their  boorish  j)rpjudice  and  tribal  hate 
Are  changed  to  sympathy  and  warm  esteem ! 

Not  uniform,  indeed,  the  progress  made. 
Proud  Satan's  strong  dominion  does  not  yield 
Before  mere  menace  of  the  Church  of  Christ. 
Long  warfare  must  be  hers,  sometimes  defeat. 
And  dire  disaster,  after  victories  won. 
"Well  knows  the  Tempter  how  to  ply  his  arts, 
Of  slandei-ous  lies  and  venom  from  without, 
Deceit  and  fuul  co)Tuj)tion  from  within. 
Well  can  he  simulate  the  true  and  right, 
"If  possible,  deceiving  God's  elect." 


41 6  Bionopsis. 

He  even  turns  defeat  to  victor5\ 
Three  centuries  the  Christian  Church  had  moved 
Straightforward  in  the  very  face  of  death. 
Lo !     Yonder  phalanx  moving  to  assault ! 
The  ^'  volleyed  thunder,"  and  the  iron  hail 
Sweeping  their  ranks,  like  grass  beneath  the  scythe, 
Shake  not  tlieir  courage,  nor  repel  their  steps ! 
Hark !    The  response  that  stirs  their  valiant  hearts. 

"  Close  ranks  1''^  the  cry.    ^^ Forward!  to  victoiy!"' 

They  close !     With  bayonets  fixed  and  steady  steps 
They  mount  the  breach,  and  plant  theii-  standard 

high 
Upon  the  very  crest  whence  poured  their  death  ! 

And  so  the  Church,  through  fields  of  her  own  blood, 

Through  martyrdoms  and  persecutions  dire, 

Holding  the  banner  high  of  love  divine. 

With  shield  of  faith,  and  sword  of  sacred  truth, 

Her  feet  made  beautiful  with  wings  to  bear 

The  tidings  glad  of  everlasting  peace, 

Advances  e'en  to  empire's  topmost  height ! 

Her  leader  sees  upon  the  sky  itself 

The  symbol  of  her  faith  emblazoned  bright, 

And,  glad,  the  "  J7t  Iwg  signo  vinces,^^  reads. 

But  scarce  is  faith  enthroned  with  earthly  powei 
Eve  foul  defection  from  the  truth  begins. 
Ah,  not  in  this  world,  Christ  his  kingdom  claims. 
Satan  his  opportunity  discerns, 
And  works  within  the  church,  with  treasons  dark. 


Book  Sci'cnth — Life  Militant  and   TiiuDipluuit.     417 

The  cliurcbward  setting  tide,  of  -worldly  men, 

Brings  world! iuess,  idolatry,  and  lies. 

Ere  this,  philosophers  had  introduced 

Their  speculations  strange,  of  mysteries. 

The  "  gnosis,"  falsely  called,  of  things  unknown. 

Still,  while  the  Word  of  God  is  held  supreme, 

Truth  must  prevail  o'er  all  the  lies  of  Hell. 

But  worldliness  benumbs  the  truth  itself. 

And  raises  fogs,  extinguishing  the  light; 

Tradition  takes  the  jjlace  of  truth  divine, 

And  gathering  darkness  overspreads  the  Church. 

"Dark  Ages"  hold  it  long  in  Arctic  gloom, 

But  when  the  Son  of  Eighteousness  returns. 

With  genial  light  and  warmth  of  truth  and  love, 

Winter,  dissolving,  yields  once  more  to  spring. 

The  happy  spring  of  new  abounding  life. 

Which  leads  in  summer,  with  her  fruits  and  flowers. 

Eich  fruits  of  gospel  grace  abound  once  more, 

In  Earth's  dark  wilderness  of  sin  and  woe. 

God's  Word  of  Truth,  like  seeds  of  precious  wheat, 

Long  held  in  buried  mummy's  withered  hand, 

Is  sown  once  more,  springs  up  and  grows. 

And  widening  harvests  ripen  for  the  Lord ! 

And  higher  art  now  speeds  the  mighty  work. 
Types  vie  with  tongues  to  bear  the  tidings  glad. 
Thought   finds  new  life,   and  truth  employs  new 

wings, 
And  grace  new  channels  to  redeem  the  lost. 
Fair  science  now  enlarges  her  domains, 
God's  wonders  never  cease.    Xew  wonders  rise 


4i8  Bionopsis. 

To  man's  astouishcd  and  delighted  view. 

The  ever  widening  bieadtlis,  and  deepening  depths 

Of  heaven's  immense,  illimitable  realms. 

Unfolding  now  to  man's  jiersistent  search, 

Eeveal  new  worlds,  yet  hint  of  more  concealed. 

And  so  the  hidden  forces  of  the  earth, 

By  science  found,  are  utilized  by  art. 

The  flighty  fancies  of  the  fairy  tales 

Are  made  the  sober  facts  of  modern  life. 

Though  leagues  may  sex)ai'ate  familiar  friends, 

They  still,  with  ease,  their  conversations  hold. 

And  hear,  with  pleasure,  each  familiar  tone! 

Once  more  the  sun  obeys  the  will  of  man, 

But  bids  the  flitting  shades  of  Earth  stand  still. 

And  binds  expressions  fleeting  as  a  smile ! 

Man  wills  to  soar  above  the  very  clouds, — 

What  power  will  serve?     What  strong  mysterious 

force  % 
He  takes  an  element  of  air  itself. 
The  imprisoned  power  is  harnessed  to  his  car, 
And,  scorning  gravitation,  bears  him  up. 
To  loftier  heights  than  eagles  can  attain  ! 
Perchance  he  fain  would  search  the  ocean  depths, — 
The  parting  waves  roll  harmless  o'er  his  head, 
And,  safe  among  the  monsters  of  the  deep 
He  gathers  treasures  long  forgotten  there ! 
He  hastes  from  land  to  land,  from  sea  to  sea. 
With  speed  as  on  the  pinions  of  the  wind ! 
He  even  stores  away  his  spoken  words 
In  metal  instruments  devoid  of  life, 


Book  Seventh — Life  Militant  and   Triumphant.     419 

And  at  his  will  evokes  eacli  syllable, 

With  each  peculiar  cadence,  rhythm,  aiid  torn* 

But  what  were  all  the  progress  made  in  ait, 

With  all  the  best  appliauces  of  lite, 

Without  true  progress  made  in  life  itself? 

The  weightiest  question  yet  remains  for  each, 

Art  thou,  my  soul,  the  nearer  brought  to  God  ? 

Art  thou  the  wiser,  happier,  holier  grown  % 

Art  thou  more  truly  filled  with  life  divine, 

(The  truest  life  that  mortals  can  attain) 

And  does  that  life  uplift  thy  soul  sublime 

Above  the  vain  pursuits,  the  carking  cares, 

And  grovelling  pleasures  of  the  sons  of  earth? 

And  dost  thou  find  true  pleasure  in  the  Lord  ? 

Dost  thou  enjoy  "his  favor,  which  is  life, 

And  loving  kindness  better  far  than  life?" 

Beats  thy  whole  heart  in  unison  with  his  ? 

And  is  the  holy  will  of  God  thy  will  ? 

Do  all  thy  thoughts  accord  with  his  high  thoughts  ? 

And  art  thou  surely  growing,  day  by  day. 

More  in  the  glorious  likeness  of  thy  Lord  ? 

And  dost  thou  make  it  e'en  thy  "meat  and  drink," 

To  spread  his  name,  and  do  his  holy  will  ? 

Oh,  wondrous  work ! 

To  do  the  will  of  God! 
This  was  indeed  the  great  and  blessed  woi-k 
Wrought  by  his  church  throngli  all  the  Intler  days. 
This  was  the  great  commission  of  our  Lord, 
"Evangelize  the  nations."     "Preach  my  word 
To  everv  creature  throughont  all  the  earth." 


420  Jiionopsis. 

Tlie  glorious  fruits  of  missionary  zeal 
Abounded  through  the  earth  in  souls  redeemed, 
And  made  the  tiophies  of  amazing  grace. 

5);  *  *  ^  :«;  :j« 


At  length  the  seed  time  of  the  earth  is  o'  er ! 
Seed  time  of  truth,  and  spiritual  deeds, 
Of  deathless  souls,  whose  mortal  forms  were  laid 
In  kindred  dust,  and  in  corruption  sown, 
The  resurrection  springtime  waiting  there. 

The  "Gospel  of  the  kingdom"  has  been  ''preached 
Through  all  the  world  and  witnessed  unto  all." 
The  dispensation  of  redeeming  grace 
ITas  I'eaehed  its  end !     The  final  day  has  come! 
Tremendous  day!    What  tongue  can  tell  thy  powei' 
AVliat  trembling  hand  record  thy  wondrous  signs? 

Not  uupredicted,  nor  unheralded. 

By  signs  and  awful  j)ortents  (seen  by  those 

Who  look  for  Christ's  appearing,  from  his  word). 

Not  unexi)ected  or  unwelcome  comes 

The  day  when  Christ  appears  to  claim  his  own. 

But  oh  !    To  men  of  worldliness  and  sin 
How  sudden !     Oh,  how  terrible  it  seems! 
As  thunder  bursting  from  a  cloudless  sky 
The  summons  conies  to  all  the  sons  of  men  ! 
Oh  fearful  sound !     O'erwhelming  every  sense. 
With  dcafoning  power!     Stunning  the  soul  itself, 


Book  Seventh — Life  Miliianf  and   TriuDiphant.     421 

And  to  its  centre  shaking  all  the  earth ! 

It  is  not  thunder!    Nay !    Nor  earthquake's  shock  ! — 

That  long,  loud,  Mailing,  awful  trumpet  sound! 


'Tis  the  last  trump!!— 


Behold  the  opening  graves 


Behold  the  dead  arise !    Oh  wondrous  day  I 
Forgotten  generations  spring  to  life ! 
And  lo!    In  yonder  sky,  that  sign  of  light! 
Rejoice  !    Ye  children  of  the  king!    Rejoice! 
It  is! 

It  is! 

The  signal  of  the  Lord ! ! 
The  appointed  signal  of  the  Son  of  Man  ! 
"  Quick  as  the  lightning  shines  from  East  to  West ! ' ' 
As  brightly  glorious  too !     He  comes  at  last ! 

What  consternation  fills  the  sons  of  men  ! 
The  busy,  hurrying  crowds  stand  still  aghast! 
Th'  unearthly  light  dims  all  the  light  of  day. 
The  sun  himself  fades  out !     And  every  eye 
Closes,  unequal  to  the  dazzling  sight! 
Closes  forever  to  the  things  of  earth. 
With  all  its  anxious  cares,  deceitful  joys, 
And  business  enterprises,  great  or  small ! 

Now  thought  is  forced  a  moment  on  itself. 
Each  man  unto  himself  made  known  at  last, 
Conscious  of  standing  in  the  sight  of  God, 
Revealed  in  every  thought  in  that  clear  light, 
Which  penetrates  the  inmost  soul  itself. 

A  ghastly  paleness  rests  on  every  face  ! 


422  Bionopsis. 

"Twei-e  vain  to  think  of  rescue  or  escape. 

Each  for  himself  must  stand  before  his  God! 

Tlie  dearest  friend,  parent  or  child,  or  spouse 

Has  no  more  claim!     Can  scarce  demand  the  care 

Of  one  who  for  himself  accounts  to  God ! 

Alas!     Who  now  can  hide?     In  vain  they  cry, — 

"The  captains  and  the  great  men  of  the  earth,'' — 

And  call  upon  "the  rocks  and  mounts  to  fall. 

And  hide  them"  from  the  searching  eye  of  God, 

And  from  the  wrath  of  the  offended  Lamb! 

Alas!     Alas!    The  agonizing  thought 

That  he  should  be  offended,  on  whose  aid 

The  soul  should  most  depend  for  this  dread  hour! — 

That,  when  the  Son  of  God  appeared  on  earth, 

A  sacrificial  Lamb  to  purge  our  sins, 

Eejected  and  despised  by  sinful  men, 

He  pleaded  for  their  love  and  trust  in  vain ! 

He  pleads  no  more!     No  more  extends  his  hands, 
Pierced  for  our  sakes,  inviting  men  to  come. 
He  stretches  forth  the  sceptre  of  his  power 
To  rule  his  foes,  as  with  an  iron  rod. 

But  we  who  love  the  Lord  see  not  their  woe. 
Caught  up  into  the  air  to  meet  our  God, 
With  lightning  speed,  like  that  with  which  he  comes. 
All  earthly  things  fade  quickly  from  our  thoughts. 
The  dearest  tie  which  bound  us  to  the  earth, 
Dissevered  now,  we  stand  above  the  clouds. 
Translated,  yea  transformed  in  every  part — 
Quick  as  a  thought,  "the  twinkling  of  an  eye," 


Book  Seventh — Life  Mi/itiinf  and   Triumphant.      423 

From  mortal  changed  to  immortality! 

Oh  glorious  change !    This!  T\s.\%\%  life  indeed] 

Celestial  bodies  now^  supply  the  place 

Of  those  frail  dying  forms  that  once  were  ours, 

Those  weak  and  sickly  tenements  of  clay. 

Immortal  vigor,  buoyant  life  and  strength, 

Pervade  our  framas,  breathe  through  each  fragrant 

breath. 
Angelic  beauty,  dignity  and  grace. 
With  radiant  charms,  adorn  each  glorious  form. 
And  spotless  robes,  of  snowy  whiteness,  shine 
As  symbols  of  the  purity  within. 
Fair  were  our  forms  before,  though  marred  by  sin, 
And  wonderfully  made,  though  soon  to  die ; 
But  iniinitely  fairer  those  bright  forms 
^Yhich  glide,  like  angels,  through  ethereal  realms. 
Yet  fairer  still  our  happy  ransomed  souls. 
Inspired  with  gifts  and  graces  all  divine. 
Made  white,  at  last,  through  Jesus'  precious  blood. 
With  no  more  fear  of  sin  or  earthly  taint. 
Redeemed  by  him,  we  henceforth  ever  live. 
In  body  and  in  spirit,  like  our  Lord. 
Ifow  every  fond  affection  turns  to  him. 
Our  bosoms  burn  with  love,  and  loyalty. 
At  last,  at  last,  with  thrilling  joy,  we  stand 
Before  our  glorious  Lord  enthroned  in  light. 

Now  all  the  armies  of  the  sky  attend. 
To  grace  His  final  advent  to  the  world, 
And  all  the  myriads  of  the  eaith  appear, 
To  hear  the  final  sentence  of  their  judge. 


424  Bionopsis. 

Now,  O  luy  soul,  the  final  hour  arrives! 
Tremendous  hour!    To  thee  all  ages  looked 
To  seal  with  everlasting  doom,  the  choice 
Which  every  soul  hath  freely  made  in  life. 
Oh  solemn  hour!   'At  last!    At  last!     At  last! 

Behold,  my  soul,  the  Judge !    Exalted  high, 
Amidst  a  brightness  more  than  lightning's  flasli, 
Whose  all  revealing  power  astounds  the  soul. 
Yet  shining  with  the  steady  blaze  of  day ! 

Behold  the  nations  stand  before  the  throne! 
Behold!    E'en  now  divided !     Eight  and  left ! 
Where  art  thou  now,  O  trembling,  fainting  soul! 
Tremble!     And  yet  rejoice!     Thou  loving  heart! 
Since  thou  hast  chosen  life  in  Christ  thy  Lord, 
Thou  couldst  not  find  the  Faithful  One  fail  now! 
Rejoice!     Oh  yes,  rejoice  with  speechless  joy ! 
With  rapture  more  than  angels  feel !     AVith  bliss 
Which  happiest  mortals  never  could  conceive! 
Already  thou  art  found  among  the  blest! 
At  Christ's  right  hand! 

Hear  thou  his  own  sweet  voice! 
What  solemn  silence  waits  the  words  of  doom. 
Which  hearts  and  consciences  already  speak. 
Already  spoken  by  the  Lord,  long  since. 
In  warning  prophecy,  in  faithful  love. 
Hark!     O  my  soul,  the  welcome  works  at  last! 
"Come!     O  ye  blessed  of  my  Father !     Come! 
Inherit  now  the  realms  prepared  for  you. 


Book  Seventh — Life  Militant  and   Triiuii pliant.     425 

Before  the  first  foundation  of  the  world! 
For  I  was  hungry,  aud  ye  gave  me  meat, 
And  I  was  thii-sty,  and  ye  gave  me  drink, 
Xaked,  ye  clothed,  sick,  or  in  prison  cast. 
Ye  visited  aud  ministered  to  me.'' 

We  ask,  "O  Lord,  when  did  we  this  to  Thee?" 

With  wondrous  condescension  he  replies 

'"For  inasmuch  as  to  the  very  least 

Of  these  my  servants  ye  have  kindness  done, 

Ye  did  it  unto  me !  " 

At  this  our  hearts 
Leap  up  with  impulse  of  peculiar  joy, — 
Not  selfish  triumph  merely,  not  the  thrill 
Of  gratified  desire  in  joys  of  sense, 
Nor  hope  of  income  of  eternal  bliss, 
Xor  mere  escape  from  just  eternal  doom ; 
But  joy  that  Jesus,  in  his  members  felt 
The  little  kindnesses  we  did  for  him! — 
Yea  that  He  even  condescends  to  si)eak 
As  if  He  owed  a  debt  of  gratitude, 
For  ou]-  poor  feeble  acts  of  faith  and  love ! 

It  was  indeed  the  privilege  of  some 

To  minister  in  person  to  the  Lord. 

Their  loving  ministry  He'll  ne'er  forget. 

They  shared  his  grief  when  exiled  and  despised. 

But  oh  what  joy,  that  e'en  to  us  he  owns 

An  interest  in  the  same  dear  debt  of  love ! 

And  now  he  bids  us  all  a  welcome  home ! 


426  Bionopsis. 

Xot  as  mere  convicts  scarce  escaping  Hell, 
But  blessed  children ! — of  His  Father  blessed, 
For  His  dear  sake,  and  loved  for  deeds  of  love! 

Oh  had  we  now  the  opportunity 
Once  more,  in  brief  but  earnest  life  on  earth, 
To  prove  our  patience,  gratitude,  and  love, 
And  simple  childlike  faith  to  recognize 
Our  Elder  Brother  in  each  child  of  Christ, 
What  double  diligence  would  mark  our  lives! 

^  ^  ^l^  *j>  ^  ^ 

But  Oh  what  woe  is  thine,  thou  sinful  soul, 
Who  findest  now  thy  place  at  Christ's  left  hand ! 
Alas!    Thou  didst  not  choose  true  life  on  Earth ! — 
And  now  the  last  faint  glimmering  hope  is  gone ! 

But  hark,  The  voice  of  everlasting  doom, 
More  full  of  fear  and  woe  to  sinful  men 
Than  thousand  thunders,  shaking  all  the  earth! 
Piercing  the  inmost  soul !     Oh  hear  the  word 
From  Christ  the  Judge,  the  solemn  word 

"Depart!" 
Oh  dreadful  word,  that  banishes  from  God ! 
But  passed  on  those,  who,  by  their  godless  lives. 
Bade  Christ  depart,  pronouncing  their  own  doom. 
Oh  dreadful  was  the  woe  of  Adam,  once, 
When  driven  from  Eden  to  the  World's  wild  wastes. 
But  whither,  now,  shall  banished  souls  depart  ? 
What  home  or  refuge  wait  them  ?    What  reward  ? 
Oh  hear  the  words  that  fright  all  godless  souls 
Far  more  than  banishment  from  God. 


Book  Seventh — Life  Militant  and   Triumphant.      427 

"  Ye  cursed,  into  everlasting  fire, 

For  Satan,  and  his  angels  now  prepared! " 

And  yet  God's  judgment  now  doth  stand  approved, 

E'en  by  the  inmost  souls  of  those  condemned. 

They  have,  tliemselves,  fixed  their  eternal  state, 

Bj'  fixing  their  own  "characters"  in  sin. 

(That  ancient  word  describes  their  lasting  work, 

Not  written,  but  ^^ engraved,''''  as  if  in  stone 

Yea  "in  the  fleshly  tablets  of  the  heart.") 

They  cannot  alter,  if  they  would,  the  doom 
Engraven  there.     The  hearts  that  felt,  unmoved, 
The  strong  constraint  of  Christ's  amazing  love, 
E'en  by  his  gentle  Spirit's  power  brought  home. 
Can  ne'er  be  changed  to  love  by  judgments  now. 
Yet  only  love  could  make  e'en  Heaven  blest. 
Or  e'er  enable  men  to  taste  its  joys. 
The  only  fruit  of  God's  revealing  light 
Is  now  to  make  their  shameful  folly  clear, 
And  point  the  darts  of  self  accusing  thought. 
Oh  dreadful  sequence  of  a  single  sin, 
Beginning  first  in  unrestrained  desire, 
And  ending  in  deliberate  choice  of  wrong, 
And  wilful  mutiny  'gainst  sovereign  right! 

But  ransomed  souls  in  Heaven  can  no  more  sound 
The  depths  of  hopeless  woe,  than  souls  condemned 
Can  e'er  conceive  the  heights  of  heavenly  bliss. 
Oh  heights  sublime !     Where  Christ  himself  reveals 
His  glorious  loveliness  to  those  he  loves ! 
He  bids  his  banished  children  welcome  home ! 


428  Bionopsis. 

He  shows  himself  a  Father  now  indeed 
And  folds  us  in  the  refuge  of  His  arms. 
Oh  home  of  rest !     Above  all  care  or  strife, 
Forever  inaccessible  to  sin ! 

We  find  Thee,  Lord,  the  "Spring  of  all  our  joys," 
And  know  the  meaning  of  thy  words  on  Earth, 
That  thou  didst  come  that  we  might  all  "have  life," 
And  "have  it  more  abundantly,"  in  Thee. 

And  thus  we  learn  that  '4u  thy  presence"  bright, 
And  only  there,  "is  fulness  of  all  joy;" 
"At  thy  right  hand  are  pleasures  evermore. 

To  him  that  overcometh  icill  I  grant  to  sit  mth  me  in 
my  throne,  even  as  I  also  overcame,  and  am  set  down 
with  my  Father  in  his  throne. 

He  that  hath  an  ear,  let  Mm  hear  what  the  Spirit  saith 
unto  the  churches. 

Eev.  iii.  21,  22. 


POSTSCRIPT. 

]\Iilleiiiiial  glories  dawn  upon  our  sight. 

But  how  depict  the  blessed  reign  of  truth, 

The  universal  prevalence  of  peace, 

With  righteousness,  and  piety,  and  love? 

When  none  need  "teach  his  neighbor,  "Know  the 

Lord" 
"  For  all,  from  least  to  greatest,  well  shall  know," 
And  for  a  thousand  years  the  saints  shall  reign, 
In  union  intimate,  with  Christ  their  Lord. 

But  how  will  Christ  his  coming  manifest? 
And  how  this  glorious  era  usher  in? 

To  us,  we  must  confess,  it  is  not  given 

Minutely  to  unfold  these  outward  things, 

The  form  and  circumstance  of  Christ's  approach. 

When  God  doth  overthrow  his  enemies. 

And  "  bring  in  universal  righteousness. 

But  this  we  do,  with  confidence,  affirm, 

Old  Earth,  and  earthly  natures  still  remain ; — 

The  final  consummation  is  not  yet. 

Christ's  kingdom  still  is  one  of  faith  and  grace, 

And,  when  the  Tempter  comes,  he  still  finds  men 

Are  peccable,  and  may  be  tempted  still. 

Not  all  are  children  of  the  King. 

And  there  are  nations  yet  to  be  "deceived." 

Let  us  observe  the  glorious  day's  approach. 

431 


432  Bionopsis. 

Behold  the  triumph  of  the  Spirit  now ! 

Long  working  j)atiently  with  little  fruit, 

But  now  with  wondrous  power  to  save  mankind. 

"Nations  are  born  as  in  a  single  day." 

And  Satan's  kingdom  totters  to  its  fall ! 

The  hearts  of  men  are  stirred  as  ne'er  before. 

Momentous  questions  burst  from  every  lip, 

With  eager,  vehement,  impatient  haste. 

"  Cometh  He  yet?    And  is  his  Kingdom  nigh  % 
Tell  us  O  watchman!    Tell !  What  of  the  night!" 

The  wakeful  watchman  mystic  answer  gives, 

"The  morning  cometh !     Also  cometh  night !" 

Morning  to  all  who  wait  eternal  day, 

And  hopeless  night  to  those  who  hate  the  light. 

Ah !  Worthless  now  seems  all  the  trivial  news, 

The  empty  gossip  of  an  idle  hour. 

The  various  contests  of  a  worldly  crew 

For  pleasure,  wealth  or  notoriety, 

When  Heaven's  all  conquering  King  is  just  at  hand. 

Yet  warfare  wages  now  before  unknown, 

A  universal,  spiritual  war. 

The  Dragon  wars,  with  all  his  angels  dark. 

To  hold  their  trembling  emi)ire  'gainst  the  Lord. 

And  Michael  and  his  angels  also  fight. 

Great  judgments  overwhelm  all  stubborn  foes. 

The  Wondrous  "Stone,"  "cut  out  without  a  hand," 

The  Living  "  Eock,"  "the  Strong  Foundation  Stone," 


Postscript.  433 

The  same  ''rejected  bj-  the  rulers  once,'' 

"  Eock  of  Ofience,  and  Grievous  "  Stumbling  Stone," 

To  all  "  who  stumble  at  the  word  of  God/' 

On  which  are  broken  those  who  stumbling  fall, 

And  ground  to  powder  those  on  whom  it  falls, 

This  Eock  of  Ages  smites  upon  the  feet 

The  image  of  the  Babylonian's  dream, 

And  Babylon,  the  Great,  in  ruin  falls. 

O  Babylon !  Thou  cruel  enemy, 

In  every  age,  of  God's  afflicted  church! 

Usurper  foul,  of  our  Immanuel's  throne. 

The  shattered  image  shows  thy  ruin  dire ! 

The  gold  and  silver,  brass  and  iron  fall 

In  common  ruin,  e'en  as  scattered  chaff 

Driven  by  the  wind  from  summer  threshing  floor. 

O  Babylon !  For  thee  the  sad  lament 

Of  merchant  princes,  kings,  and  craftsmen  rise 

In  wails  of  hopeless  woe. 

"Alas!  Alas! 
That  mighty  city !    In  a  single  hour 
Thy    splendor,   wealth,   and    i)ower  have  come  to 
naught ! "  .      • 

Hoary  with  age  and  stained  with  martyr  blood. 
Centre  of  art,  and  priestly  pomp,  O  Eome, 
Thou  art  the  centre  of  this  Babylon. 
Thy  sister  cities  throughout  Christendom 
Share  in  thy  fall,  and  join  thee  in  thy  woe. 
O  Babylon  of  worldly  hopes  and  joys, 
And  worldly  enterprise  that  most  employs 
Gold,  silver,  iron,  bi-ass,  clay,  stone,  or  wood, 


434  Bionopsis. 

Wherewith  to  make  thine  earthly  empire  strong, 

But  careth  naught  for  truth  and  life  divine, 

Whose  chosen  temples  are  the  theatres, 

The  forum,  and  the  legislative  halls. 

The  caucus  chamber,  club  room,  or  exchange, 

Or  dens  of  vice  where  vilest  men  resort, 

Thy  long  appointed  hour  lias  come  at  last ! 

Smitten  of  Heaven,  the  stubborn  foes  of  God, 

Whom  mercy  could  not  win,  by  judgment  fall. 

The  Earth  is  purged  of  willing  dupes  of  Hell, 

And  Satan's  throne  is  overturned  at  last. 

The  Tempter  foul  is  bound  a  thousand  years. 

No  more  to  tempt  the  nations  till  the  end. 

And  now  the  Gospel  flies  through  all  the  Earth, 

As  if  proclaimed  from  loftiest  heights  of  Heaven, 

By  mighty  angels,  sounding  trumpets  loud. 

Now  all  mankind  must  lend  attentive  ears, 

Great  multitudes  receive  the  word  with  joy, 

And  Jesus  has  a  willing  people  now. 

In  this  the  day  of  God's  almighty  power. 

The  Word  of  God  (increased  and  multiplied, 

As  in  the  e'arly  Pentecostal  day) 

Has  now  "free  course."     "It  runs:"  "is  glorified." 

Oh  gloriously  the  blessed  Lord  doth  reign, 
And  every  knee  doth  bow,  and  tongue  confess, 
"Of  things  in   Heaven,  on  Earth,  and  'neath  the 

Earth, 
That  Jesus  Christ  is  Lord! " 

Oh  glorious  day 


Postscript.  435 

Day  of  unutterable  joy  to  all 

Who  love  tlieir   Lord,  aud  pray   ''Thy   kingdom 

come," 
When  Christ  doth  come,  with  resurrection  power 
Into  the  very  souls  so  dead  in  sin, 
And  raise  them  to  a  life  like  that  of  those 
Who  witnessed  for  him  once  with  martyr  blood. 
Kay  it  is  said  that  e'en  the  martyrs  too. 
Who  lived  not  half  their  lives,  but  died  for  Christ, 
Are  raised,  to  share  in  his  millennial  reign. 
As  living  witnesses  to  all  the  world. 

But  who  the  wonders  of  this  age  shall  tell? 
This  glorious  harvest  time  of  God's  own  word  ? 
Ah!  meagre,  through  the  ages,  were  the  fruits 
Of  righteousness,  aud  truth,  in  human  hearts; 
Aud  infidels  declared  the  Word  of  God, 
And  Christ's  atonement  for  a  sinful  world, 
A  failure,  if  designed  for  all  mankind. 
And  yet  this  fact  proclaimed  the  humbling  truth. 
So  solemnly  affirmed,  of  man's  sad  fall, 
And  consequent  apostacy  from  God. 
But  now  the  Lord  himself  is  "satisfied," 
With  harvests  from  the  tiavail  of  his  soul. 
Now  horrid  war  wastes  human  life  no  more. 
Fraternal  love,  and  peace,  and  righteousness, 
With  Christian  fellowship  prevail  through  Earth, 
Aud  "fleshly  lusts,  which  war  against  the  soul," 
No  longer  lure  their  millions  down  to  death. 
The  dreadful  power  that  Satau  held  so  long 
To  rule,  corruj^t,  and  ruin  thoughtless  men. 


43^  r>ionopsis. 

By  nioibid  appetite  for  poisouous  drink, 

Is  broken  now.     And  men  no  longer  say, 

To  justify  a  self  indulgent  course, 

Wliicli  countenanced  and  pandered  to  this  power, 

"Am  I  my  brother's  keeper?"  (Cain's  own  words) 

But  nobly  speak  the  sentiment  of  Paul, 

"No  more  I'll  make  my  brother  to  offend/' 

Once  even  Christian  men  were  sore  deceived 

By  this  most  subtle  of  the  Tempter's  arts. 

E'en  when  most  innocent,  the  gift  of  Heaven, 

And  "making  glad  the  hearts"  of  godly  men, 

Wine  was  emijloyed,  as  Father  Noah  knew, 

To  cheat  the  senses,  and  to  shame  the  soul. 

Then,  danger  chiefly  lurked  in  gross  excess. 

But  as  of  old,  in  Eden,  Satan  saw 

His  vantage  ground,  to  lure  man  to  his  Ihll. 

So  in  this  subtle,  most  deceptive  i^ower, 

Hid  in  th'  alluring,  merry,  festive  cup. 

Which  good  men  loved,  whose  i^raises  poets  sung. 

And  saints  defended  from  the  Word  of  God, 

He  found  his  chief  enchantment,  sly  and  strong, 

To  cheat,  enthrall,  and  slay  the  souls  of  men. 

So  added  he  his  deadly  poisons  too, 

And  new  concoctions,  cunningly  devised, 

With  power  not  only  to  intoxicate. 

But  rivet  fast  the  bonds  of  sin  and  death. 

So,  many  jjerished  by  this  foul  device, 
And  others,  stronger  in  their  self  restraint, 
Declared  their  course  was  safe  and  innocent. 


Postscript.  437 

Can  that  be  innocent  which  hinders  grace, 
Gives  aid  and  comfort  to  the  enemy, 
And,  by  examph%  louder  far  than  words, 
Assists  the  Devil  to  enthrall  mankind! 
Nay!     Innocent  indulgence  grows  a  sin, 
Wbene'ei-  it  aids  the  growth  of  vice  and  crime. 
Or  breaks  the  blows  which  else  might  slay  the  foe. 

But  now  the  Lord  doth  reign  in  righteousness. 
"The  ravening  wolf  dwells,  harmless,  with  the  lamb, 
The  leopard  lietli  down  beside  the  kid. 
The  calf,  young  lion,  and  the  fatling  too" 
Are  found  together,  and  a  little  child 
Leads  them  in  safety,  peace,  and  amity. 

And  so  it  comes  to  pass  that  at  the  end, 
^V"llen  this  long,  fruitful  age  is  o'er. 
Unnumbered  multitudes  are  gathered  home, 
"Of  every  nation,  kindred,  people,  tongue," 
"To  stand  before  the  throne,  before  the  Lamb," 
"With  white  robes  clothed,  and  jjalms  within  their 

hands," 
Ascribing  their  "salvation  to  the  Lord, 
That  sitteth  on  the  throne,  and  to  the  Lamb." 

But  human  nature  still  remains  defiled. 
The  curse  is  not  removed.     Man's  inbred  sin, 
(Without  the  Tempter's  arts)  still  gives  its  taint 
To  every  living  soul  from  Adam  born. 
The    bane    which    grew   in  strength   while    Satan 
reigned, 


438  l^ionppsis. 

Not  e'en  the  grace  of  blest  millenial  years 
Can  quite  eradicate  from  human  hearts. 
The  one  transgression  sends  its  baleful  power 
Through  ages,  to  the  very  verge  of  time ! 

What  wondrous  lessons  show  the  power  of  sin! 
It  crucified  the  Saviour  of  the  world, 
And  even  where  his  holy  name  was  known, 
And  men  professed  their  faith,  both  in  himself 
And  in  the  great  salvation  wrought  by  liim, 
They  still  preferred  the  tainted  joys  of  sin  ! 
And  e'en  when  Satan's  rule  is  overthrown, 
And  long  millennial  ages  prove  the  power 
Of  truth  and  piety  to  bless  mankind. 
Some  still  prefer  the  joys  of  sense  and  sin. 

So,  when  the  Tempter  comes  to  ply  his  arts, 
When  "loosed  a  little  season,"  ere  the  end. 
Great  multitudes  are  easily  deceived. 
And  thus  "  led  captive  by  him,  at  his  will." 
Once  more  he  claims  the  empire  of  the  world ! 
Oh  wondrous  height  of  devilish  power  and  art ! 
Oh  wondrous  depth  of  human  sin  and  shame ! 
So  rajiidly  the  foul  defection  spreads, 
That  while  the  righteous  perish  from  the  earth, 
(As  in  the  days  of  Noah),  godless  men 
Are  multiplied,  and  almost  all  the  world 
Eeceive  the  TemiDter  for  their  guide  and  king. 
(So  rallied  once,  the  warriors  of  France 
Around  their  Hero,  when  from  exile  turned, 
He  sought,  a  few  days  more,  his  em])ire  lost). 


Postscript.  439 

And  thus  must  be  fulfilled  the  Saviour's  words, 
That  when  the  Son  of  Man  doth  come  at  last, 
"  Findeth  he  still  true  faith  upon  the  earth  ? " 
A  little  kingdom  still  remains  his  own. 
True  hearts  are  gathered  at  Jerusalem, 
"SYhence  first  his  truth  began  to  bless  the  world, 
And  Satan  wills  to  conquer  even  here. 
And  so  with  art  the  nations  he  deceives, 
And  gathereth  Gog  and  Magog  to  the  war. 

Behold  the  closing  act  of  human  guilt, 
The  final  blow  of  Hell's  most  desperate  spite. 
Earth  long  has  been  her  chosen  battlefield, 
But  Satan's  arts  have  all  been  tried  in  vain. 
Each  cunning  stroke  of  lies  and  foul  deceit 
Has  quick  recoiled,  and  ended  in  defeat. 
Though  Adam  fell,  a  second  Adam  rose, 
A  Samson  mightier,  far,  than  all  his  foes, 
Able  his  people  to  redeem  and  judge. 
To  bring  new  liberty  from  bondage  vile, 
Sweetness  from  foul  corruption  and  decay, 
Eich  nutriment  from  all- devouring  jaws, 
And  victory  from  dire  defeat  and  death. 

The  worst  and  deadliest  assault  of  Hell 
AYas  smiting  Christ,  God's  well  beloved  Son. 
Xor  dared  she  do  the  awful  deed  herself. 
O  men !  Ye  were  her  blind  and  wicked  tools ! 
The  tools  of  Hell !  to  work  her  foul  designs 
Against  your  sovereign!  'gainst  incarnate  love! 
Yea,  'gainst  your  own  supreme,  eternal  weal! 


44°  Bionopsis. 

Oh  dark,  and  deep,  and  diie  the  plots  of  Hell  1 
Oh  dreadful  her  dominion  over  men ! 
But  deeper  still,  in  mysterj^  profound, 
Th'  eternal  plans  of  our  Omniscient  King! 
The  darkest  schemes  of  all  the  powers  of  night, 
Eevealed  in  light  to  his  all  jjiercing  eye, 
Are  foolish,  weak,  and  vain ! 

"  Why  do  ye  rage, 
And  counsel  take,  together,  'gainst  the  Lord? 
And  'gainst  his  Son,  anointed  Priest  and  King?" 
The  Lord  derides  your  impotent  attempts ! 
Ye  but  fulfill  his  wise  and  just  decrees  ! 
The  Lamb  of  God  ye  slew  was  given  by  Him, 
To  purge,  by  blood,  the  sins  of  guilty  men, 
And  thus  redeem  them  from  the  power  of  Hell ! 
Oh  wondrously  the  glorious  grace  of  God 
Was  brought  to  view  by  foulest  acts  of  Hell, 
And  justice,  too,  that  could  not  even  simre 
God's  only  Son  from  shame  and  grief  and  death ! 
And  so  the  tangled  web  of  wickedness. 
Long  wrought,  with  hellish  art,  in  darkness  deep, 
Will  justify,  at  last,  God's  ways  to  men  ! 

But  now  the  end  draws  near!     Full  victory 
Seems  just  within  the  easy  grasp  of  Hell ! 
Amazing  sight !    The  wretched  sous  of  men 
Swarm  'neath  the  standard  of  their  deadliest  foe! 
Alas!  How  quickly  fallen  men  forget 
The  benefits  received  from  patient  Heaven  ! 
As  in  that  land  where  Joseph  reigned  of  old 
"A  generation  rose  that  knew  him  not," 


Postscript.  441 

So  now  a  people  rise  that  know  not  Christ. 

As  ouce  before  the  iiood,  God's  cause  declined, 

Till  ancient  faith  had  almost  died  from  Earth, 

So  now,  millennial  saints  are  almost  ijone. 

"Now  human  nature  loud  asserts  its  guilt 

When  unregen'rate,  and  unsanctified, 

Xaught  can  restrain  its  jjlunging  downward  course. 

Untaught  by  Earth's  old  history  of  woe. 

Or  that  of  ages  of  millennial  bliss, 

Untaught  by  Christ's  own  coming  to  the  Earth, 

First  to  atone  and  then  to  reign  in  joy, 

The  sons  of  Earth  are  on  their  idols  mad, 

And  scorn  and  hate  the  least  restraint  of  Heaven ! 

Glad  they  attempt  to  do  their  king's  behests. 

And  rid  the  earth  of  all  the  sons  of  God. 

Now  Satan  boldly  throws  off  all  disguise. 
Oh  art  most  wonderful  to  thus  deceive 
The  sons  of  men,  and  arm  for  such  a  war ! 
Xow,  art  aside,  he  trusts  to  violence ! 
He  thinks  to  whelm  the  city  of  our  God  ! 
Here  Satan  stakes  his  empire  of  the  world ! 
One  more  assault!     He  hopes  to  i-eigu  supreme! 
Unnumbered  hosts  from  every  laud  and  sea, 
Assembled  on  the  face  of  all  the  land 
To  crush  the  saints  left  in  Jerusalem ! 

O  Heaven  !  Behold  the  God  defying  hosts ! 

Yes  !  Heaven  beholds !  And  from  her  lofty  height 
The  fire  of  God  descends !  Oh  dreadful  sight ! 
More  foarful,  far,  than  Sodom's  awful  fall! 


442  Bionopsis. 

The  windows  of  the  skies,  now  opened  wide, 
Pour  forth  a  flood  more  fierce  than  Noah  knew, 
A  lurid  sea  of  roaring,  flaming  fire. 
Kindling  the  whole  vast  atmosphere  of  Earth, 
Takes  "vengeance  now  on  those  that  know  not  God 
Obeying  not  the  Gospel  of  our  Lord  ! ' ' 

Here  ends  the  weary  tale  of  earthly  guilt. 

Now  on  his  Great  "White  Throne  our  God  appears ! 
Before  whom  Earth  and  Heaven  both  flee  away ! 
And  now  before  him  stand  both  small  and  great. 
And  earth  and  sea  give  up  their  ancient  dead. 
And  men  are  judged  according  to  their  works. 
The  "  books  of  God  are  opened,  and  the  names 
Of  all  the  dead  recorded  there  are  seen ! 
"  And  every  one,  whose  name  cannot  be  found 
Long  written  in  the  Book  of  Life,  is  cast 
Into  the  Lake  of  Fire,  the  second  death !" 

THE  END. 

"  Let  UH  hear  the  conclusion  of  the  tchole  matter :  Fear 
God  and  keep  his  commandments :  for  this  is  the  whole 
duty  ofman.^^ — Eccl.  xiii.  13. 

"Sis  commandments  are  not  grievous.''^ —1  John  v.  3. 

"  This  is  his  commandment,  that  we  should  believe  on 
the  name  of  his  Son  Jesus  Christ,  and  love  one  another,^- 
as  he  gave  us  commandment. — 1  John  iii.  23. 


L'HNVOL 

May  God  forbid  that  we  our  hopes  should  stay 

On  empty  wishes,  fancies  most  absurd, 

Or  promises  that  with  the  earth  decay. 

But  may  our  faith,  built  firm  on  God's  sure  word, 

Abide  when  earth  itself  shall  pass  away. 


8 


lO^H 

^=- 

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—  1 

